Abort, Retry, Fail?
by Gimp666
Summary: Forte is finally content to settle down in with his new life at the Light's,but Wily has other plans for him. Yaoi. Part 2, Chapter 6 is up finally.
1. Part 1: An Unexpected Visitor

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: Wow, I haven't written in a long time. .'s something I've been working at off and on since March break. o.o;; I'm still not really sure how I feel about it, to be honest. The fic isn't really action packed, though there is a bit of gore over the first few chapters. It centres mostly on Forte. If you like/dislike/whatever, please drop a review. ^^

Please note, I wasn't originally going to post this here, but I thought what the hey. Just a forewarning, in order to post this here, I'm going to have to severely edit a few chapters _; You can find the uncensored versions on or you can e-mail, leave a review, or PM me. I'll let you know when a chapter is censored.

_The road of life can only reveal itself as it is travelled; each turn in the road reveals a surprise. Man's future is hidden. _

_ Anonymous_

_**Chapter One **__**– An unexpected visitor**_

The dim room was filled with shadows, their source a small garage sale quality lamp balanced painstakingly on a stack of books of roughly the same grade. It had been left on when its owner had left in a rush after being paged on an intricate intercom system. It rested silently in the corner now, under which someone had painstakingly made a kind of nest, blankets and clothes piled up and a thick indent still in them from his body. Near the pinnacle of light sat a desk, heavily laden with strange objects, stretching across the room, its glowing veil barely touching a solid steel door.

The door slid open to the right slowly, and a thin dagger of light cut through the shadows, thrown up against the far side of the room. A black outline cast a thick shadow through it, motionless. For a moment it stayed that way as the figure on the other side of the door sagged, leaning against the door frame heavily. His breath came in small sharp gasps, and he had a shirt balled and pressed against his side in a failing attempt to keep blood off the floor. He hung in the doorway a moment longer before finally pushing the door the rest of the way open, limping in slowly and standing to the side as a purple robot closely resembling a wolf padded in after him, also sporting a mild limp.

Forte turned his head to the side a little, sweat tracing down the one visible purple splash on his cheek, looking like a stream of tears. He regarded his companion quietly as he let the door shut, pressing against it heavily with a slight grunt. "Well, Gos... Looks like we made it." He brushed a stray strand of purple hair out of his face – he'd called his armor off shortly after his fight with Rock and his stupid dog, Rush, using the t-shirt he'd been wearing underneath to slow the bleeding on the gash he'd received.

Gospel cocked his head to the side, giving Forte an appraising stare that seemed to say "barely". He licked Forte's hand as it abandoned the sweaty, tussled purple mop of hair and fell to his side again, then nudged him lightly in the direction of Forte's makeshift bed. He never left his master's side, however, standing next to him patiently.

Forte gave a raspy chuckle, despite himself. "Yeah, yeah.. bed. I know." He pat his friend on the head gently, heading over to the mass of stolen blankets and shirts in the corner and dropping on them unceremoniously. He found he didn't really care for human fashion, he really only wore enough to keep him from being naked, but the clothes made a rather comfortable resting spot for Gospel and himself. And right now he fully intended to take advantage of it.

He settled himself more comfortably, keeping the injury from brushing against the blankets, and from open vulnerability to falling objects, or Gospel, who shared the bed with him. Then, he began to let his mind wander. Closing his eyes, he thought back to the fight quietly, nursing his side slowly.

He'd been out on a mission and had hardly even got there when lady luck decided to throw one hell of a bitch fit on him, the little blue bastard showed up. Rockman had tried, par the usual, to befriend Forte in the moment of his attempted apprehension, show him the err of his ways and all that crap. Rock had been met with Forte's own special way of turning the offer down – a shot at the face, and a rather vicious fight, which had been cut short when Rockman had blasted a hole in his side, tearing through his bodysuit beneath his chest plate. A lucky shot, really, that was all it had been.

He wondered idly if Rock realized how utterly stupid his methods were. If the brat really wanted to make friends with him, he would stop getting him in shit with the ornery old man. That would be a good start down the path to an ever blossoming friendship, or at least make Forte's life a little easier. He rolled his eyes at the thought. Today was just not one of his better days, that was for sure. He decided to just wait awhile before making it worse and bearing his creator the bad news.

He'd tell Wily he failed in the morning, not that it would come as any major surprise to the ageing scientist. They _always_ lost. He was tired of failing, but at least it did something to ease his blood lust a little. Forte wouldn't have much to do if Rockman wasn't around, always trying to thwart him. He loved fighting, and fight he did, constantly. If Rock were dead he'd be out of a job and bored as hell. Not to mention the whole becoming expendable thing. Wily needed him, and Forte liked things that way. It was a good security net, he supposed.

Lately, however, he had been doing what he liked referring to as 'independent' work. The old man, more wrinkly than ever it seemed, had been distracted and strange lately, spending more time alone, and less time stirring up trouble. He was almost always in his lab these days, and even stranger, he'd started locking the door. Even the override pass code Forte had been given didn't work. It was downright bizarre, Wily loved having someone to listen to him gloat.

The changes had happened so fast, it was like he woke up a different person. At first Forte had associated it with that pesky "ageing" that humans tended to go through before death, almost sure his creator was going senile, but after close examination – and a little spying, he'd discovered that the good old doctor was working on a new robot. He didn't seem to be preparing for another war, however, and things became dull again, as Forte got bored with spying on the old bastard. And so things had gone on that way for months, Forte forced to find ways to entertain himself.

At least, until earlier that day, when Wily had paged him, shouting as always and demanding he come to his laboratory. It had been the first time in almost a month that the old man had requested his services, and he had been warned severely not to let the old man down. So it was really no surprised that he was so reluctant to go telling the old man he'd failed so badly. Wily was likely to start ranting and raving again, and it got on Forte's nerves. Especially considering he hadn't managed to secure a single item on the doctor's list.

But who could blame him for failing, really? It was outrageous, the things he wanted, and the _amounts_ of it, too. Impossible. There was no way he could have gotten it all, he didn't know _what_ the old man had been thinking. The miserable old bastard had probably been setting him up for failure just so he'd have a reason to throw a fit. Still, he didn't think so. Something didn't sit right with him, and Forte had always had a strong intuition.

Forte let loose a deep, resounding sigh and closed his eyes. His vision was getting dimmer, the edges seemed to be closing in on him, and he realized how utterly exhausted he was. There were several minor systems flashing red, and he couldn't ignore them any longer without risking passing out somewhere unfamiliar or unfriendly. Getting back with the injuries he had sustained had been a real bitch, and now he just wanted to sleep.

He reached out lazily, resting a hand no his companion's head, patting him a little then just resting it there. "Night, Gos. I'm done." he mumbled, yawning openly, then his eyes slid shut and he was asleep in mere moments.

At least, that's how it should have been. Unfortunately, Forte only made it to the realm that exists halfway between conscious thought and dreams when he heard a loud pounding on his door. Life had a rather wicked sense of humour sometimes, and he would have smirked if he'd been in better humour – and health. Groaning, he lifted himself to a hunched position on his hands and knees, hand still clasped against his side, gripping the now drenched shirt pressed there, cursing under his breath. He'd have to replace that with something better later. Talk about shitty luck.

Who could that even be? Most of the robot masters avoided him like he was a black cat under a ladder, the rest were just indifferent, and ignored him as he ignored them in turn. He got to his feet slowly, rolling his eyes at another knock, and started for the door, stopping and hissing at Gospel as he wriggled over and captured Forte's prime location on the bed. "That's my spot! Damned dog."

He groaned as Gospel as he rolled onto his side, stretching lazily and grinning at him with his eyes. Oh, this had better be good. "I'll deal with you after." The knocking had turned to banging, and he took the last four steps to cross the room, punching the door release code into the panel, glancing out into the hall as the door slid open, and –

His blood ran cold.

An elderly man stood on the other side of the door. His hair was almost completely white, with flecks of steely grey throughout it. It was shooting out of control, growing out the sides of his head like crab grass between the cracks of an ill tended sidewalk. His eyes were an icy blue, and humourless. The only thing they seemed to hold was cruelty. Draped over his shoulders was a dirty, ill-fitting as of late white lab coat, underneath he wore a blue shirt and black, old man dress pants. Most importantly though, he wore a rather menacing, contemptuous glare that left Forte frozen in place.

Wily. Fucking _Wily_ was on the other side of his door, and he didn't look very pleased to see him. Forte continued to stare at him, gripping the door frame tightly, until the old man finally broke the silence.

"Are you going to let me in or are you going to continue staring at me like a fool?"

Forte backed away from the door slowly, holding the door open for him, still in shock. Wily was in his room. He tried to think back to a time when Wily had ever come to his area of the fortress and couldn't recall a single time in all the years he had served under the old man that he had made such a trip. Not for Forte, not for any of the robot masters either. He'd heard a few rather disturbing stories, but he'd deemed them false a long time ago. He'd always thought Wily found the place too lowly for his ancient bones.

This end of the fortress was constantly damp, and lacking in both warmth and sunlight, something humans seemed to thrive on. Yet, here he was, and oh boy did he look royally pissed. And even worse, a small part of Forte was sure the old man knew he was finally cracking his shell, finally getting to him, and he sensed the old man was smug about it.

Forte winced inwardly. If Dr. Albert Wily was standing in his room, then it could only possibly mean one thing. Forte felt his stomach churn and a brief wave of nausea washed over him as a deep shiver ran up his spine. He found himself helpless against the dread crushing him under its weight. Wily was in his room, and he was going to die.

A hand reached past him, skin drier than parchment and more withered than time itself, and pulled his hand in from the doorway, allowing it to slide shut. Forte felt his heart race and struggled hard to bring his emotions under control and force a poker face, not wanting the older man to know how utterly terrified he was. The door sealed with a slight hiss, and Wily spoke with a steady calmness. "You failed me, Forte."

In his mind flashed a quick image he had seen a few Halloweens prior, while running a few "errands" for the good doctor. He had been walking past a store window, when he had seen a Halloween display, featuring a bubbly, cartoon skeleton. Its eyes were round, wide black sockets, and its long, badly proportioned skeletal arm had been extended in nearly the same position as now. It had appeared almost comical then, yet now the returning memory was filling him with dread.

He forced the thought from his mind, focusing on the situation at hand. Forte stared at the door as it slid shut, numb and finding himself for once completely and utterly speechless. He turned slowly to face his creator – soon to be his executioner, and gave the very faintest of nods. No sense in lying, it was rather obvious he had lost, and he couldn't even find his voice, forget make bad excuses. He doubted Wily would have listened to any from him anyway. Not at this point, at least.

Wily stared at him, his beady eyes boring holes into the young robot while holding him captive. He crossed his arms, impatient. Forte was playing the mute, it seemed. He found it irritating, among several other things. He waited a few seconds more for a response, while his creation just stood there, staring at him stupidly, then spoke up. "You have a voice box."

Forte came to life quickly, nodding. He wasn't going to show Wily how freaked out he was. "Y-yes..." Wily was already in a bad mood, and he really didn't want it to make the situation any worse for him.

He turned from Forte, eyes sweeping the room Forte called home. It was small, and dingy. There was dirt and mould building up in the corners, and one of the walls had a thick crack on it from absorbing a rather livid Forte's rage one day, when he was first built. It had been what people commonly refer to as a temper tantrum. Knowing his creation, the first of many he'd had in this room. He was past that stage now, though. He hadn't had a fit in a long time, unfortunately Wily couldn't say the same.

The room wasn't much, but it was everything Forte had, and it was enough to provide him with some privacy, and a place to rest when he was weary. The purple robot stared on quietly as the old man analyzed his room, growing more uncomfortable by the second. He didn't like this… he didn't like this at all.

Wily saw this and rolled his eyes, glancing over at the intercom and the mass of clothing and blankets underneath it. The bed looked ragged, and reminded him of something a dog might sleep in – he might almost mistake it as Gospel's were it not for the fresh blood on the top sheet from Forte's wounds. The old man frowned at the thought, disgusted. How fitting, that Forte should live like a lowly dog. The little bastard probably preferred it, too. After all, Forte acted like a wild animal most of the time.

Finally, his gaze fell on the lamp near the bed, and the books holding it up. A glance to the left showed more books, to the right... books. He couldn't help but feel a little surprised at that. He'd never in a million years would have pegged Forte out as a reader, he'd certainly never programmed it into him. but then, his creations had all picked up a wife variety of habits and hobbies he'd never thought them capable of. He had always assumed that if they developed any they would be directly related to the part of their personalities that was ingrained into their programming.

This was just another example of just how dangerously wrong that kind of thought could be. Forte had books on several different subjects, many beyond what he thought Forte's comprehension to be – philosophy? Poetry? He hadn't created Forte to be cultured, he'd created him to destroy – to kill. Yet, he had almost no literature on that subject, with the exception of a few faded books on war strategy. He never thought Forte would read Homer, but apparently he had been wrong.

But then, he'd never really bothered with this aspect of his creation's lives, either. He didn't know what they did in their spare time – didn't care, as long as they did what he wanted, when he wanted it. Outside of that, they could be avid underwater basket weavers for all he cared. But Forte wasn't doing what he wanted, why else would he be in this rank prison? He let his eyes linger over the room a few moments longer. He wasn't doing what Wily wanted, and now he would have to be punished more severely for his repeated failure. Fun time was over.


	2. Part 1: Intimidation

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: Here is the second chap. .-. Please take the time to drop a review if you like/tolerate it XD; Thanks! I didn't bother censoring this part as it's not really too graphic sexually or violently. I'm probably going to have to hack the next chapter up a lot in order to be presentable here.

_Character is made by many acts; it may be lost by a single one. _

_Anonymous_

_**Chapter Two **__**– Intimidation**_

Forte relaxed slowly as those eyes left him, chewing his lip as Wily inspected his bedroom. This was somehow almost as unnerving as the scientist's arrival at his door, and in a sense, a lot worse. This was _his _room, his private haven from Wily and his dangerous mood swings. He wasn't supposed to be here, it was like and unspoken promise.

And worse yet, the old man was touching his things, going through them, studying them. He felt a rather frank sense of violation at that. Forte had a lot of things he kept private from Wily – he thought of the magazines stuffed under the mass of clothing that he visited on lonely nights and grimaced at the thought of Wily finding them. These things represented parts of Forte that he himself didn't quite understand sometimes, and now the man was casually phishing through them. It wasn't fair, and he wasn't prepared for any of this.

He watched as Wily picked up some of the new, experimental weapons Forte had taken to field test, not giving his creation so much as a glance over his shoulder. At least the little pea brain did some of what he asked him in his spare time, not just read books and silly little poems, and likely daydream about his creator's impending and eventual death. It was good to see some elements of his hard coded personality had not failed him – Forte still liked to fight, that much he was certain of. He'd had a hell of a time getting him to keep a low profile over the past few months. "I trust these work." he stated, not a question.

"They work." Forte affirmed, watching restlessly. What was Wily getting at, anyway? He was giving him the creeps, invading his room and giving him a good, hard mind fuck. Everything about this screamed wrong. The dark edges on his vision were ever closing in, he could run himself ragged a little longer, but not much. He wanted to scream at the giant wrinkle violating his personal belongings to just hurry up and get it over with, but he didn't and never would dare.

That was like committing suicide, something you could think about and talk big about, over and over, but once you actually did it, that was the end of everything. He still wasn't that far gone yet. He felt another wave of inertia and steadied his body, waiting and ignoring the system warnings. He seriously hoped he didn't just out and out faint before Wily left – wouldn't that piss the man off, not to mention embarrass the hell out of him. He didn't want to show that kind of weakness in front of this man.

Wily continued to ignore him, further invading his creation's personal space. "All of them?" the scientist pressed on with, noting the slightly glazed, distant look in his creation's eyes. To anyone else, it would be easy to mistake Forte for stoned – maybe he even was, in a way. The glassy-eyed stare he wore was so close, Wily almost mistook it himself. But he knew what it really was, Forte's wounds had left him burned out in a different sense.

He was running out of energy. How many times had he seen Forte in this state coming out of battle? When he fought, Forte pushed himself, almost to the point of forced shutdown. He had warned the violet haired boy countless times, but he knew Forte, and when he was fighting Rock he only thought of one thing. He stared at Forte's half closed eyes with no pity. Too bad, Forte could sleep on his own time. Right now, his time was Wily's time, and Wily didn't like sleeping on the job.

He snapped his fingers, and Forte all but came out of a trance, focusing again. "I asked you a question, stop daydreaming." Forte stiffened. Good, it was wise for a creation to fear its god. And he was definitely fearing a godly wrath right now. It was obvious he hadn't heard a word Wily had said, though he was looking rather attentive right now. "All of them?" he repeated.

Forte pinched his arm a little, behind his back. He had almost shut down on his feet while his mind drifted a few moments ago, he was so far gone. His knees felt weak, though whether that was more with exhaustion or fear, he wasn't sure. He dreaded to think how much that would have pissed off Wily, essentially falling asleep in the middle of a lecture. He had better work harder at focusing.

Still, he couldn't do this much longer, so he compromised, and allowed himself to slouch a little, shoulders slumping slightly, half closing his eyes. It made focusing a lot easier that way, and he thought he could push it along for awhile longer. Not for too long, however. He was exhausted, and he wasn't sure if he could fight the urge to keep closing his eyes much longer. "Yes." he muttered.

Wily turned suddenly, face anything but pleasant, and he turned on his creation furiously. "Of course they do. They all work. And do you know why? Do you?" He didn't give Forte a chance to respond, slamming his fist on the table. No, he was really on a roll now. He could see the fear and panic rising up in Forte's eyes, and he was positively delighted. Good, let him fear him for awhile, it would do him good.

He shouted his next statement so loudly his voice almost went up a decibel. "Because I don't _make mistakes!_" he shouted, face twisted back in a snarl. "I am a genius, and I don't make mistakes! I'm too smart for that!" He rounded on Forte, face red and blotchy with rage. "So why are you such a _fuckup_?"

Forte practically jumped, heart racing. This was the side of Wily he truly despised and feared, above all else, and after all his years around Wily, he'd never truly adjusted to his wild and sometimes crazy mood swings. How could he? It was like preparing for the cannon fodder ten years before war was even being declared. And that's just what Wily was, a loose cannon. Still, he had to try, or he'd never survive in a place like this. Acting on his first instinct, he tried to explain himself.

"It wasn't my fault! I~gyaaaah!" He cried out loudly as Wily took one of the instruments on the table and jabbed it roughly into the bleeding, pulsating wound on Forte's side, t-shirt long since abandoned. He spent a fleeting second or two wondering what had happened to it, and then found he had a more pressing issue to deal with. Whatever blood had been coagulating was now set free, and it chose to take its march of freedom right down Forte's hip, leg, and before he even thought of reaction it was pooling over the top of his foot, tickling the spaces between his toes.

He collapsed to his knees, groaning and shouting at Gospel as he sprang to his feet to protect his master. "No! Down!" He wasn't sure what Gospel might do, he didn't think he could harm Wily, but he wasn't about to take any chances. He didn't want Gospel hurt because of him. Gospel growled throatily but relented, sinking back down on his haunches with a whine.

Forte sighed, relieved. If this was it for him, then fine, but please not Gospel too... not Gospel. The wolf was far more loyal to him than anyone else he had ever met. He risked sparing a glance at Wily to see what he was doing, blood flowing more freely now. He seemed to have temporarily forgotten Forte, giving Gospel a rather disapproving look.

Wily frowned at the mechanical wolf, agitated. The damned thing never would have attacked him, couldn't. He'd made very sure of that with a few programmed commands. He'd known how dangerous and stupid an animal like that was, and Gospel was a threat to everyone but him, much like Forte. Still, the fact that it had even defied him so much as to try and shield Forte from him angered him. Insubordination was one thing he did not tolerate, something Forte in fact had been fence-walking for awhile now. "Control your support unit better." he ordered hotly. He was annoyed that Forte's influence had moved Gospel that much.

Forte simply nodded, cowed. That had been close. Wily wouldn't have given killing Gospel a second thought. The old doctor took a step toward him and he felt himself shrink back against the wall despite himself, cursing himself inwardly for it. He wasn't a coward, but he wasn't stupid either. Wily was weak and feeble, but he had a rather nasty disposition, one that made up for as old and flawed as he could ever be. Not to mention he could build things to do what he physically didn't.

His mind also made up for how elderly he was. Forte wasn't a fool, this couldn't be good, not at all. He couldn't help but feel as though he were caught in the middle of a tornado, caught between flying debris and the funnel itself, and trying to decide which death would be quicker and less painful.

The older man grinned at Forte's composure and manner, pleased with himself for the way the usually belligerent boy practically trembled before him at but a look. He grabbed Forte's chin and thrust it up, forcing him to look him in the eye. "Look at me when I'm addressing you." His hand slipped away from his chin – Forte remained with his head cocked slightly upward, eyes still lowered enough that they didn't quite meet his, staring hard past him at the far end of the room.

He let Forte sweat it out for awhile, not forcing his chin the rest of the way up. He didn't need Forte to make eye contact with him for what he had prepared, though it would be a nice added bonus. Instead, he traced a finger up the streak on his cheek, then cupped it, pushing his hair back out of his face in the process. "Forte, Forte, Forte..." he chided mockingly, voice deceivingly soothing. "What am I going to do with you, Forte? You've been nothing but a failure to me."

Forte stared at him, eyes narrowed as he tried to not look intimidated and failing miserably. He didn't like all this sudden touching, it was very uncharacteristic of the doctor who normally hated physical contact of any kind, however unintentional.. "... I know you're here to kill me." he muttered lowly, before he could silence the thought. He tried to pry his face away from Wily's steely gaze, finding himself stuck in place as though the man was still holding his chin in that tight grip.

Wily frowned at that, not wanting to lose the powerful hold he had on Forte, wanting to keep him in the dark. He struck him hard on the cheek – the skin hardly reddened, though Forte seemed very much shaken by it. "I'll do what I want with you, I built you." He shifted his hand slowly, tracing over his creation's chest, then slid down slowly to his injured side, fingers feathering delicately over his reopened wound idly, growing wet with blood.

Forte had only a fraction of a second to prepare himself for the pain before Wily gripped onto him tightly, digging his nails into his side and quickly bringing his tormentee to his knees with a sharp cry of pain. The pain was swift, taking the breath right out of him and cutting his cry short. He chuckled lowly, as if they were sharing a private joke between friends. "Forte, I'm not going to kill you. I wouldn't come all the way up here for that, I would have done that in my lab, it's less of a mess that way."

He reached up, snatching a handful of purple unkempt hair, and gripped it painfully tight, pulling at the roots a little. "Oh, you'll live awhile longer, rest assured. At least until I grow bored of you, and I may even keep you past that on principle. However, I'm going to punish you severely. When I'm done with you, you'll wish I had killed you. You'll want nothing more than to be dead, then you'll never think of failing me again." He drew Forte forward, who offered little resistance and fell further to his knees. Forte stared at the smooth, reflective surface of the floor, and the old man, incensed, grabbed his bangs. He gave them a sharp tug and jerked his head up to finally meet his eyes.

Forte made a sharp noise, looking bewildered, and realized just where he was situated, on his knees before the man. His eyes widened in recognition at the look on his face. The pervert. The damned old pervert. He had time enough to wonder briefly if this was how people felt when a volcano long since thought dead suddenly erupted and turned them to charcoal as Wily's intentions became clearer to him, and was tugged forward just as he got his bearings.

He made a muffled gag, choking down the old man, and fought a strong urge to cry. This was the most humiliating moment of his life, and he only hoped that no one was watching, Gospel included. He didn't want his only companion to see him like this. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he let the old bastard do as he pleased, just wanting him to get it over with, wondering if death really would have been a better way out.


	3. Part 1: Pain

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: This is the censored version of this fic. I have it up at uncensored, or e-mail, PM or review me for anyone who wants to see the uncut story. Not much more to say here, hope you enjoy. Please review, reviews make for happy writers XD;; *lazy* Besides, feedback can be very helpful as I have the rest of this written, but still in an editable state.

~Gimp

_Young people have a marvellous faculty of either dying or adapting themselves to circumstances. _

_~ Samuel Butler_

_**Chapter Three **__**– Pain**_

He lay thrown forward on the ground, cheek crushed into the cold, rough floor, and listened idly as the old man moved around behind him, somewhere in the room. He felt nothing short of agony, his stomach ached badly, but it was nothing compared to the fiery pain in his backside, flaring up from a deep throb to a raw ache at even the thought of moving. There was blood... he was sure of it. Blood running down his thighs in rivulets, to accompany the pain. Blood and...

He shuddered heavily, gritting his teeth. The raw ache was nothing compared to the thought of what now drained slowly from within him. He was driven by a strange urge, one he didn't understand. His eyes burned, his throat felt pinched tight, and his chest tensed, but he still didn't recognize it as the urge to cry, the very concept was still something very alien to him. He had never cried before, and just didn't know how to start now.

How could Wily have even done this to him? He thought old humans were physically incapable of such sickening deeds with their mere husks of bodies, obsolete. He secretly thought them weak, inferior, foolish beings. Still, it wasn't a concept completely foreign to him. He'd heard rumours about the scientist– awful, nasty rumours he'd chosen to ignore up to this point. Of course he had ignored them, how could he honestly believe that his own creator would...

He convulsed slightly, fighting back disgust as he thought of what Wily had done to him – worse still, of what he had been forced to do for the man. His stomach clenched, cramping uncomfortably and he felt ill, bringing a small shudder of pain up through him. He wouldn't be sick in the bastard's presence, he wouldn't give him the satisfaction. What happened jived with things he'd heard – whispered, about the old man. He waited quietly for him to leave, he wanted nothing more than to rinse the bitter, rustic taste from his mouth, wash the mess off his body, then hide away in his bed, close to Gospel, and feed off his companion's warmth.

Gospel always made things seem better, yes, and he needed that now. There was something comforting about living warmth, it seemed to ease the pain greatly, and oh, it was so unbearably painful. He supposed he was still in a state of shock over what Wily had done. What he had done to the scientist... His breath hitched and he caught the gag in his throat before he retched. Yes, he would crawl back into bed with Gospel, as soon as the old pervert felt he'd 'taught' him enough and left.

Wily had indeed gotten his point across – the punishment had been awful, he'd lost consciousness several times as Wily raped him, unsure of how long it had been, but in the end it didn't make a difference. It had still happened, and he wasn't likely to forget its lesson anytime soon. Rather, Forte felt sure he was going to spend many a sleepless night in the near future, delving on what had happened, reliving it and reminding himself through memories. Don't fail. Losers suffer.

The old pervert sure had some fucked up ways of teaching, though, and in a sick way he was almost sure that was what it was supposed to have been. A rather nasty lesson he was supposed to have benefited from in some strange way. One that was going to linger with him for a long time, too, if the sharp, throbbing pains he still felt were any indication.

Wily watched Forte's inner turmoil with a great sense of cruel pleasure. He was suffering well. He tightened his belt with a satisfied jerk, mood greatly improved. He considered taking his leave, relatively sure the lesson had been taught well, and Forte would think twice before fucking up again. It _was_ possible that Forte had just needed a little straightening out, yes, very possible. He just needed to see first-hand how serious his creator was about what he did. He could end it here, and Forte would never disobey again, but he'd always had a mean streak to him.

He cracked a small grin, deciding to stick around awhile longer and have a little 'discussion' with him first. He had an idea that he would have Forte's complete and undivided attention this time, exhausted and broken or not. Better yet, he would have that and not the standoffish attitude that usually accompanied the little bastard. Unfortunately for Forte, he was old, stubborn, and never did know when to quit. He wasn't done with him yet.

Forte listened for awhile longer to the slight shuffling nearby, before it finally started to sink in that Wily wasn't leaving. He shut his eyes tighter, unnerved, just knowing that Wily was getting ready to do something, and something bad. It would be to Forte, and he wasn't going to like it one bit. Wily brought entirely new meaning to the world cruel, and he was setting up to reiterate that point to him. Slowly, painfully, he raised himself to a crawl position, attempting to sit up on his knees. Just because he had to take it, didn't mean he had to take it lying down.

The shuffling stopped; Wily was waiting for him to get up, and finally he managed to, knowing things were going to get worse but determined not to just lie down and wait for death to catch up with him. Slowly, with much effort, he turned his upper body toward Wily, seeing him stepping away from the table with the newly developed weapons on them and back toward him. Wily was smiling almost amiably at him, but he wasn't fooled.

********CENSORED*********

Wily stopped suddenly, as if losing complete interest in the robot on the floor before him. He stood over him, nudging his creation with his foot, so Forte's head lolled to the side, and he was looking at him through his still functioning eye. He pressed a button on the cylinder he'd used against Forte only a moment before, and a bright, green laser shot out of it. He held it away from him carefully, and Forte felt an intense heat coming off it.

"I think you got my point... but I'm very angry, and I've decided that a creation as utterly useless as you doesn't need a support unit. It hasn't done much to improve your performance, and it gives me a chance to really try this thing out." He turned from Forte, heading toward Gospel, who was still crouched on the bed, ears tucked back. He heard a deep, thick growl unfurl from Gospel's throat, but he stayed, feet planted firmly where he'd been since Forte had told him to stand down, and he certainly wouldn't attack Wily, as much as Forte wished he would.

Forte moaned softly in pain, staring at him fuzzily from where he lay prone on the floor. Fading fast, dark grey edges of his world spreading wider as everything drew more hazy, he groped at the floor weakly, inching himself toward Gospel slowly, and watched what was happening with a dull sense of horror. His jaw ached, it was probably broken, but he managed to force words out, sounding thick and cottony. "...gos... no..."

Still making a beeline for the wolf, Wily turned his head a little and gave Forte the most sickening grin he'd ever seen before. His eyes glinted darkly, knowingly, and Forte realized that Wily was getting back at him in the one place he was truly vulnerable. He was going to take the one thing that had ever really mattered to the boy. Above all else he witnessed that day, it was the grin that would haunt him for a long, long time. The grin he would see again and again in his nightmares, until it drove him nearly mad.

That was the last thing Forte saw before his body shut down on him and he slipped into unconsciousness, the world fading out before him.


	4. Part 1: Flight

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: Sorry for the lateness, but my schedule changed for the month. o.o; So for this month, updates will be on a Saturday or a Sunday. *nod*

I finally got glasses. *cheers* I can actually see what I'm typing now. This does not necessarily mean the end of typos, I've never really been one to go back and proofread my own stuff.

Thank you to Atreyu the Slayer, MungoJerry, Blues32 and Dragon-orb for all the reviews, they are much appreciated. And yes, MungoJerry, there will be a little of all the above, most likely. Please keep reviewing, guys. It makes for a happy*Gimp.

P.S I wasn't sure where this sits as far as censoring, so I didn't. It's a short enough chap as it is, and there really isn't anything too bad in this one.

_You cannot escape the responsibility of tomorrow by evading it today. _

_~Abraham Lincoln_

_**Chapter Four - Flight **_

With a deep, wet, ragged cough, the world slowly came back into view. Forte lay still for awhile, vision heavily skewed. One side of his line of sight simply did not register, and he spent a fleeting moment wondering why, before things slowly fell back into place. He reached up slowly, touching his right temple testingly, and immediately rolled to his side and vomited as he was slammed hard with sharp, nauseating pain.

His fingers had sunken into a wet, spongy mess, touching hard straight edges – circuitry, he told himself, and he cut his finger on something sharp. He stared at his hand dully, wondering how badly he had cut it, before it really dawned on him just how much he had bled, the majority of blood was obviously not from his finger, unless it had contained a mass artery of some sort.

Fighting the surging nausea, he gripped a small piece that had cut him and pulled. At first nothing happened, other than a sharp, throbbing pain, and he paused to vomit again, convulsively. Finally, it slid out with a small squeal of protest, and holding it up to his face, he realized it was a flat, torn piece of metal. His lips twitched as he realized what it was in his hands. His skull... He was holding his skull.

His fucking _skull._

He tossed it to the side weakly, throwing up again – all blood, it must have leaked into his energy conversion systems down his open mouth while he was unconscious. His body had, of course, rejected what wasn't energy. He wiped the thin stream trailing out of his mouth away, wiping his tongue on the back of his arm to get the strange, metallic taste out of it.

His world threatened to fade out from beneath him again, and he curled up in the pool of warm and gelled congealing blood, forcing himself to fight the overwhelming urge to slip into that dark state again. It wouldn't be hard, his body felt heavy, if he just closed his eyes a little longer…

No... He needed to be awake, he knew that. He didn't know why, thoughts were coming slow now, but he knew he had to. So he lay like that for an indefinite amount of time, watching the light from the sun – someone had shattered the lamp and sent his books askew – creep slowly from the far wall. It was setting, night must be drawing near. He was forgetting something. Something wasn't reaching the surface of his mind.. Something that _should_ be. He was exhausted, dazed, and ill, but he had to remember.

Then the thought finally reached him and his stupefied mind, and he remembered the last thing he'd seen before he sank from the conscious world. Gospel... The last thing he had seen was Wily approaching Gospel with that strange weapon drawn, struggling with the weight of it. His stomach pulled tight and he gasped, refusing to give in to the surge of panic starting to invade his system. Gospel. He had to make sure nothing had happened to him.

It's too late.

He didn't have a good feeling about it. Already, he'd noticed something badly wrong. Being his support unit, they were networked in a way, their minds interconnected. They had a certain sense of each other, nothing like mind reading, he couldn't tell when Gospel was torturing the local rabbits, but he... he just knew what his companion was up to. He could feel Gospel's excitement, his heart would sometimes race as though it was he himself on the prowl. Sometimes he swore he could even taste the rabbit's flesh as Gospel's jaws closed smoothly around his prey. But the wolf wasn't there. He sensed nothing, no connection, no pull, no... _there_, whatever there was.

Gripping onto the desk tightly, he managed to get up slowly, world pitching and lurching dangerously. With a soft grunt, he staggered dangerously, before catching himself again, making himself stand up straighter and taking slow, deep breaths. He stood that way a moment, determined not to pass out again, then opened his eyes, staring at his bed.

Gospel.

He stared numbly at the mess on the bed that had once been his only friend. Circuitry and wires, frayed and littered across the floor, blood splayed on the walls unceremoniously. A piece of purple panelling lay mere feet from his body, thrown across the room and singed black in places. And Wily had taken one of the other weapons laid on the desk and... and... _skewered_ his dog on it.

He fought the tide of grief threatening to bowl him over, fighting it with determination. No.. He wasn't going to let it end this way. He wasn't going to lose Gospel like this. There was still a chance, still a place he could go where they would do something for his support unit. Yes... it was the last place he'd ever thought he would return, and he certainly wouldn't have gone for himself, never in a million years, but this was _Gospel_. If it was for Gospel, his friend, often the only thing keeping him going these days, then he could sacrifice his pride, and return to the one place he'd never wanted to return.

He was going to Light's laboratory.

He walked unsteadily along the wall, reaching Gospel, and lay down with him quietly, petting him soothingly although his companion's eyes looked long since dead, closing the wolf's eyes. He wasn't sure what to say, so instead he quoted some Aesop. "The shaft of the arrow had been feathered with one of the eagle's own plumes. We often give our enemies the means of our own destruction." That only served to depress him further, and he bit his lip.

He pet Gospel one final time, then sat up. He wouldn't let himself sleep, not after the sight, but he needed a few moment's rest to pool his thoughts together and think of a way out. He could hardly move, he wasn't sure how he was going to manage to carry Gospel there, but he would find a way, for both their sakes. He would make do, and he would do it alone.

There was no way he was going to ask for help from one of the Robot Masters. He didn't doubt they would help, but he didn't want them to. For one thing, it wasn't his style. At all. The other reason... It was _Gospel_. He didn't want anyone to touch his Gospel. It was just something he had to do alone.

His eyes hardened and he got up – Time to get down to business. He grabbed the ends of the sheet and tied them together. He didn't want any stray parts falling out and getting lost. He gripped the sheet tighter, a vision of Gospel running around headless passing through his mind. God help him, why did he have to think of that now? He tied an extra knot in the sheet, forcing the sight from his mind firmly. He wasn't going to panic now.

When he was sure it was tight and ready to go, he turned his attention to himself. He dressed painstakingly slow, and in the end he gave up on his actual clothing altogether – too tight. He eventually compromised by draping a sheet around him, and tying it like a horrendously ugly toga. He took the t-shirt he had originally intended to wear, considering it for a moment, then instead wrapped it around his head, swaddling the right side, to keep him from losing some vital circuitry himself. If he ceased functioning and broke down, he would be of no use whatsoever, and Gospel would be gone. It hurt like hell on whatever there was of him exposed, but it was a necessity.

He stood up slowly, hoisting the bundle onto his back, ignoring the way his body screamed in protest. He fought a particularly nasty bout of vertigo, and started for the door carefully, gritting his teeth a little. He told himself it would pass. The disorientation would pass like the nausea, he just had to wait it out. He moved agonizingly slow, which in itself was a blessing in disguise. There was so much blood, and if he slipped and fell, he wouldn't be getting back up. Not in this lifetime, not ever.

As he made his way down the hall and then toward the way he usually snuck out of the fortress, he ran into few robot masters. He avoided their gaze, and they thankfully returned the gesture and did the same. They had probably heard Wily's shouting from here, and he knew he looked like absolute hell. It was rather obvious that he had been punished badly by the old man. No one else could have done this extensive of damage to him without him fighting back. He looked ridiculous, of that he was certain, but he couldn't be bothered to care. At this point he was worried about one thing, and one thing alone.

He left slowly, using his own steam, and nobody bothered him, and more importantly, nobody tried to stop him, and it was just as well. In fact, he was thankful, he could hardly walk himself, let alone try to fight his way out. He couldn't swing a punch – hell, he couldn't really speak at this point. But obviously Wily hadn't thought he would actually leave, or he would never have made it past the door to his room.

Finally he was outside, and he spared a moment to enjoy the feel of the cool, evening breeze brush up gently against his sweaty, discoloured skin, soothing the exertion of getting out of his personal hell. He pressed on finally, denying himself further pleasure, he wasn't about to sit around and enjoy the day, he had less pleasant things to deal with.

He made his way toward the Light residence at a ridiculously slow pace, resting only when he absolutely had to in order to remain functioning, dismayed to find that this happened more frequently as the hours wore on. The day seemed to drag on forever, and the rough terrain was almost killing him, but he didn't dare step out of the underbrush and walk on the side of the road.

If he didn't give some random driver a heart attack with his current condition – he mused momentarily on being mistaken for a zombie in some crappy horror film – he might be recognized. And while the thought of running into Rock prematurely and saving himself the torturous journey to the Light residence was tempting, he was more likely to run afoul of some asshole who would just run him down with their car, something he most certainly did not need in his current state. The risk severely outweighed the benefit, unfortunately.

So, he kept walking, keeping his agonizingly slow pace. He found if he denied his thoughts the simple pleasure of drifting away, and focused instead on the intense pain, he travelled faster. He would make it, he didn't doubt that, but he wanted to be conscious enough to reiterate the necessary information to Dr. Light when he got there. It was both his and Gospel's best chance for survival. He wouldn't throw the towel in until he reached his destination. He had to hang on. Just a little longer... For Gospel's sake.


	5. Part 1: End of the Journey

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: Late again .-. Been busy and filled with work filled angst. ;.;

Censored it a little, rather than chop up the one scene and rewrite it, I just censored out little sections that were too extreme for here.

The full version of this chapter is available at , or you can e-mail me, PM me, or leave a review about it.

Please review and let me know what you think.

"_EVIL" is "LIVE" spelled backward_

_ ~Anonymous_

_**Chapter Five – End of the Journey**_

Rock sat perched on the couch with his favourite blanket, relaxing and enjoying a late reheated supper. Light had finished repairing him a few hours ago, after his fight with Forte, and then the two had spent some time discussing what Forte had been up to at the time Rock had finally caught up to him and put a stop to whatever trouble he was fixing to start there.

The younger boy could stir up quite a bit of trouble on his own, and Rock had been prepared for complete pandemonium, but as far as he could tell, it had been nothing more than glorified shoplifting. Judging by what he had been taking, they had been for Wily, but Rock had stopped him before Forte had made off with anything, and now they were trying to figure out what they were for. So far they had drawn nothing but a big blank.

Seeing Forte stealing something for Wily was actually a change, compared to what he had been up to lately. Once, a week or so back, he had actually caught Forte defacing a statue in a park not far from downtown, adding pubic hair. He had only caught the Wily bot by chance, he had been sent to run an errand for Dr. Light, and had decided to take the scenic route home on the trail that ran through the park. He had been headed over to stop what he had thought was an unruly teenager when Forte had spotted him, summoned his armor, and attacked before running off suddenly, as if losing interest after a few moments.

As far as Rock could tell, Forte seemed to be doing nothing more than stirring up trouble aimlessly, likely bored. He'd been doing that a lot lately for some reason. The boy found himself wondering briefly if Wily had finally done the world a favour and died, but didn't count on it. Forte would have no use for the cabling he'd caught him after that afternoon, and he doubted Wily would go down that easily anyway. The man would probably live to be a hundred and fifty, just to spite everyone.

And then there was the nature of the incident. This time it had seemed different, like before, and he just had a feeling that it was more of a guided mission than trouble making. Still, there was still no questioning that a lot of Forte's latest attacks had been very self directed. They were usually ill thought out, and executed with even poorer judgement. Pubic hair, really. That had just been immature.

He looked over at Dr. Light, who was enjoying the same belated meal, and spoke, still shovelling food in his mouth at an almost alarming speed. "Hey, dad, you don't think maybe he was-"

"Rock, don't talk with your mouth full." Light interrupted with, chiding.

Rock sighed impatiently and finished chewing, swallowing quickly before continuing. "Sorry! I was just saying, are you sure Wily isn't maybe building another robot? Maybe he's starting on his next army."

Dr. Light shook his head slightly, but there was something in his look that made Rock doubt him a little. "No... you don't build bioroids with what he was after. It looked more like something for some kind of a computer system, probably for his laboratory. In any case, I wouldn't worry about it so much, Rock. He didn't make off with anything, they did an inventory count at the factory." He stood, as if to tell him that the discussion was closed indefinitely, and Rock stood up, stretching.

"I feel better than ever!" he piped cheerily, though in truth his back still ached something fierce – a present from Forte, who had delivered a rather swift kick to the small of his back during their brief, yet rather destructive battle. He hated to think of how much the damage Forte had caused must have cost the owner of the plant the Wily bot had broken into. "Thanks for the repairs!" He grabbed the plates, to take them into the kitchen and put them away. "I think I'm just going to go to bed, and – "

_**'ockmmn.**_

Rock jumped, startled, and almost dropped the plates, springing to life before they hit the ground and catching them as they fell – more out of reflex than anything. He stayed crouched quietly, ears straining and holding the plates tightly, so they wouldn't make any clinking sounds. Was that... what he thought it was? He tensed up, getting a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach.

_**'oookmnn.**_

The voice was longer, more drawn out, and he got a better sample of the voice making it. No way. He stood up again, wide eyed, and gave a sweeping gaze around the room slowly, already knowing he wasn't going to find anything there. That voice... That had been sent through a sort of radio transmission he used for emergencies only. After all, he had a much more advanced paging system he preferred. Still, why...

Light looked around as well, confused by his son's sudden confusing behaviour, and change in everything down to his posture. He couldn't see anything that could possibly cause such alarm from the boy, but Rock had gone from tired and relaxed to wound tighter than a spring in less than a few seconds. He walked over to Rock, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Rock, what is it?"

Rock blinked up at the older man, chewing his finger and looking perplexed, still glancing around the room nervously. "Someone's sending me a radio transmission." he murmured, standing there stiffly. He didn't look happy at all. How could he have gotten so close without his even knowing? That was a short wave radio, and he range on it was almost pitiful. "I... I think it's _Forte._ The pitch in it matches with my voice samples of his voice. But that can't be right."

It was almost impossible to tell, the voice was thick and muffled, like someone trying to talk with a mouth stuffed full of cotton, or heavily drugged. Still, even as he said it he was more than sure that it was Forte, which only added to the mystery. There wasn't a trace of maliciousness in his voice, the only thing he'd clearly heard in it was pain. Or maybe confusion. He'd have to be confused to come here seeking him. Or just crazy.

Dr. Light didn't look too happy about it either. Why would Forte of all people be contacting Rock? He hated him. This couldn't be good, not at all. Especially given Forte's track record as a bit of a weasel. Then, it was possible he was just trying to issue a challenge to Rock, though this was a new, less destructive way. It wound certainly be a nice change for Forte to contact Rock in a way that didn't cost him large figures of money. Still, it wasn't the money he was really concerned about, it was Forte's chosen means of contact itself. He had to be using the short wave transistor radio system he'd set up in Rock, and that was what he didn't like about the whole situation. It meant that if it was Forte, he wasn't very far.

The tension had started to leave the older robot, and his shoulders relaxed slightly, so far nothing had blown up and more than a moment had passed. That had to be a good sign right there. Maybe he just wanted to talk, or needed help. There was a first time for everything. With a quick mental command, Rock opened a communication's path on the same frequency. "Hello? Who is this?" He paused, thoughtfully. "It's Forte, isn't it?" A moment passed with nothing but silence before there was finally a response, nearly impossible to hear.

_**'es.**_

The voice sounded strained, agonized. It wasn't hard to tell that the owner of it was either under a lot of stress, or in a lot of pain. He sounded like he was trying to talk through a jaw that was wired shut, or maybe through lips sewn tight together. Seeing as he was Wily's, both were very viable possibilities. Rock sighed, worried. He was Forte were far from bosom buddies, but he didn't like the way Forte sounded, not one little bit. He knew it could be a trap, but he didn't think so. It just didn't seem like one. What it seemed like was trouble, and a whole lot of it. The way Forte sounded, the severely long pause before he responded – it meant trouble and he knew it. He glanced over at Light, "It's Forte."

The old man sighed, frowning. He wasn't sure of what exactly was going on, he was hearing a one sided conversation, and not a good one at that. "Rock, if he's contacting you that way, he can't be far. Keep on your toes, son." It was the best advice he could offer. He reached over slowly, flicking the outer lights on quickly, to give them a better view of the situation at hand. The sun had long since set, and at least it provided them with some light.

Rock nodded a little, staring out the window at the newly illuminated yard, and tried to spot his enemy and discover his hiding spot. So far he saw nothing. He thought about it for a moment, then paged Forte again. It never hurt to try things the easy way first. "Forte, where are you?" He got a response, muffled so badly that he could hardly make out what he – had he just said... He had to have heard him wrong.

That had almost sounded like 'driveway'. Rock knew Forte was bold, but standing out on the driveway in front of his house was past the stage of being bold, it was just crazy. He was about to ask the younger robot to repeat himself, hurrying the rest of the way to the kitchen to deliver the plates, when he stole a quick peek out the window at the dark driveway.

And really did drop the plates.

He was out the door before he really had time for it to even register that he had dropped them, but Roll would forgive him, they were just plates, and this... this was something much, much more important. He couldn't believe what he had just seen, he couldn't have seen it, it had been a trick from the lights, shadows covering him in the right places, just light thrown at the right angle.

Dr. Light had no idea what had caused Rock to run off so quickly, but he knew his son was apt to think with his heart rather than his head. He followed him quickly, side stepping the shattered glass on his way. He slowed to a stop when he reached the porch, pausing before he descended the stairs. Already he could see that the Wily bot was going to be no trouble. What was left of him, at least.

Rock got to where Forte lay prone on the driveway, and crouched down, grimacing when his knee settled in a small pool of blood forming around his still form. He reached out to touch him slowly, almost afraid to. He had to be dead, how could he have even – Rock frowned. Before he even touched the taller boy he could tell he was alive, for the time being. Things didn't look very promising for him, though.

His chest was rising and falling in rapid succession, painfully, and there was a steady trickle of blood trailing down from the corner of his mouth, over his lips, and making slight bubbles off them. At least, he was relatively sure the blood was coming from his mouth, there wasn't much of it still intact. Still, he was breathing. His breaths could be mistaken for convulsions, but the bubbles were from air exiting his mouth. _If_ that was where the blood was coming from.

There was so much blood it was really hard to tell _where_ he was bleeding from. He was practically soaked from head to toe in it, and it looked more like a coat of paint than anything, really. And somehow he was still alive, struggling for survival much like an animal after a fatal blow from a car, only not swift enough to kill it instantly, only enough to let it lie on the side of the road and suffer first. Rock frowned. Given Forte's condition, it looked more like a truck than a car.

He was reminded sickly of a day years ago, when he'd had a different life without Wily and robot masters, and being Rockman. He had gone for a walk to the park and watch the children play, he'd been fascinated by them, and a little girl's puppy had gotten away from her. It had run out onto the road and consequentially been run over by someone's car, though not badly enough to be immediately fatal. He'd tried to help it, but it had been far too late, and the dog had died giving him the same look Forte now had. He felt ill.

"Are you... are you okay, Forte?" he breathed, fighting nausea. It was no small wonder he'd had trouble understanding him. **CENSORED**

Forte opened his eyes slowly, staring at Rock through his good one, and Rock forced himself to give the younger robot a small smile, though he imagined his eyes were probably wide with the horror struck awe he was feeling. **CENSORED**

He reached down, hand shaking badly, and pulled the shirt down more, slowly covering that eye mercifully. If he kept looking at it, he was certain he really would be sick, and he needed to keep it together right now, for the injured robot's sake. He couldn't afford to freak out until this was all over.

**CENSORED** Rock had never felt so sorry for Forte as he did at this moment. That his creator would treat him this way was revolting.

Instead of grabbing onto the cool cement of the driveway to drag himself along further, he gripped onto Rock's wrist with surprising strength, given his current state. He didn't try to pull him over, or push him away, he just held on tight, as if trying to decide if he really was there, really existed, or if he was still alone on the road somewhere, dying. His fingers clenched and unclenched on him slowly, as if he couldn't keep a solid grip for very long, and this was probably close to the truth.

Rock shivered a little. He didn't want Forte to touch him when he was like this. **CENSORED** He fought a convulsive gag, not wanting to retch when he was supposed to be coming to the Wily bot's aid.

"gofth." he murmured, sole eye staring deep into Rock's baby blues, boring into his skull.

Rock narrowed his eyes slightly in confusion, not understanding the command, and at first he worried that Forte was speaking in gibberish. It was possible, he wasn't sure how much of what made Forte himself was really left, and what might lay a mile or two down the road. He stroked the straggly bangs not under the shirt back gently, petting him slowly and unsure of what to do. "Shh… don't try to talk." **CENSORED**

Forte stared up at him silently, then realized Rock didn't understand, and tried to speak again, slower, focusing on the syllables. "go...spo..." **CENSORED** As long as Rock took care of Gospel and he was there when Forte finally came to, he couldn't care less about his present condition or what happened to him. He waited for Rock to get the message, he was going to pass out again soon – he'd fought the urge for too long – but he wouldn't allow himself to black out again until he was sure Rock understood.

Rock stared at him for a few seconds, still uncomprehending, then his eyes widened slightly in recognition of the word Forte was trying to push out of his ruined mouth. 'Gospel', he was sure that was what Forte was trying to tell him. But what about him? He wasn't here, at least as far as he could tell, and he doubted the dog would be hiding in the bushes somewhere if Rock was sitting here with him. He pet Forte's shoulder lightly, thinking about it.

At first he thought Forte meant his support unit had attacked him, causing the damage Forte had sustained, and then his eyes fell on the lump of sheets Forte had been dragging with him. It was the right size, and also stained a deep red. And if Forte was like this, then it was very possible that… "Is that... What happened, Forte? Who did this?" Not that he really needed to ask, he already knew who did it, it was obvious.

But Forte was only staring at him with that hard look in his eyes, too weak to give more than a shadow of nod. His grip hadn't relinquished at all. "go..." he tried, pressing the point, determined to make Rock understand what needed to be done. It was the most important thing at the moment. "g-gos…"

"I understand." Rock cut him off with. It wouldn't do Forte any good to strain himself now, repeating the same word again ad again, and he didn't think he could stand listening to him having to force the smallest of words out, it was too depressing, and couldn't be very good for him. "I'll take care of him for you. I promise."

Forte released Rock's arm, staring at him to be sure, then his eyes lost that hard look as the frown faded from his face slowly, and his hand dropped from Rock's wrist as he let everything fade out.

Rock stared at him quietly, taking in everything and trying not to be overwhelmed. He was trying to decide what would be the best way to bring them both in and convince Dr. Light to help while doing it when he felt a faint yet firm tap on his shoulder. He started slightly, glancing up to see one sleepy eyed Blues rubbing his eyes, and settled a little, staring at him sadly.

"He's hurt. We have to help him, we can't just leave him like this." he said to his eldest brother defensively. Rock would never leave someone to suffer like this, no matter who it was, but that didn't mean Blues wouldn't, especially Forte. But the Wily bot deserved better than this, and he was ready and willing to go to bat for him about it against Blues if need be.

But it seemed that wouldn't be necessary after all. Blues surprised him by nodding in agreement. "So I see. Looks like he's coming apart at the seams. Dr. Light's already waiting inside. Your ill fated dinner plate woke me up, so I thought I'd come help." He shrugged a little.

Rock sighed heavily in immense relief. Blues carried a short fuse when it came to Forte. He bent down and wrapped his arms around him awkwardly, deciding where Forte's battered body needed support the most. He glanced up at Blues. "Could you carry Gospel? I think I can handle Forte." He began to work on picking the taller boy up and find a way to carry him that wasn't too awkward.

He finally settled for draping him over his back and leaning forward, supporting his weight and holding him up by his legs. "He's um... well..." He nodded toward the mass of sheets, feeling bad. "That's him. I don't think he was as fortunate as Forte. He looks pretty… Not good." He offered, not wanting to say dead.

Blues stared at the lump and sighed, raising a brow. Forte was going to be crushed, and completely unmanageable if he woke up and his support unit was dead. "I'll be right behind you. Just don't drop him, I don't think he'll even stay in one piece if you do." He grabbed the red-soaked mass of sheets by the knot, frowning at how similar it was to a garbage bag. He groaned at the blood dripping from it, holding it away from his body with a slight noise of disgust. That was going to be murder on the carpet.

Rock carried him back slowly, worried Forte was going to come to and freak out or something, not wanting him to slip down off his back and take more damage. The sheet he had draped around him was really making it hard to keep a good grip on him, and the limpness of his body wasn't helping any.. He heard footsteps following his and he hurried the pace a little, slipping past Dr. Light, who kept the door held open for him. He passed him slowly, making sure he didn't hit the door frame, and hurried inside. He went slowly through the living room, mindful of any furniture he could trip over.

He made his way to the lab, setting him down on the table carefully. Blues followed at his heels, carrying Gospel, and deposited the bag gently on another table, slipping back out. Rock followed him silently, casting a worried glance at Dr. Light as he disappeared into his lab. He didn't come back out that night.


	6. Part 1: Anger

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: HA! Early! Sort of. Longish chapter again. o.o; *sigh* Enjoy or whatever, this chapter's a little more involving than the last few. And no censored/uncensored version for this one. Forte's slowly getting pretty again XD;;

Review? ._.

"_Anyone can become angry-that is easy; but to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, and at the right time, and for the right purpose, and in the right way- that is not within everybody's power and is not easy." – Aristotle_

_**Chapter 6 - Anger**_

Forte shivered a little, feeling the first light of day invading his senses, and was confused by it. The light never reached his bed, and this was a lot more comfortable than the lump of clothing he was used to, so he hadn't slept out in the woods. His hands reached out, running over the downy material of the blanket he had draped over him - much nicer than his usual scratchy blanket – and he pulled it up over his head, wincing at a sharp, throbbing pain in his back. Why did his back hurt?

His mind felt dogged, taking a long time to catch up with the rest of him. And his head hurt like all hell, the ache was terrible. He must have gotten his ass kicked again, and blacked out at some point. It explained the throbbing in his head, but what the hell was up with the bed he was in? He rested in the warm cave he'd made for himself, not sure he wanted to know where he was.

"...here, boy." he murmured, surprised with how slurred and unformed his words sounded – it was like listening to someone else speak. There was a steady sting on the left of his mouth that spread over his cheek and irritated him more when he talked. He sighed and felt around for his companion, pushing the blankets back when he didn't hear or feel him. Gospel didn't come, and he felt himself getting annoyed. Leave it to the wolf to... to...

He tried to sit up sharply, his body stubbornly taking its time, and he opened his eyes, scanning the room he was in. His voice was tighter, filled with panic now. "Gospel? H..here boy." No, this wasn't happening, it had all been a dream, he was just being ridiculous, getting caught up in a nightmare. He ground the heels of his hands over his eyes, stressed, and yelped a little despite himself. His eyes stung badly, and there was a throbbing ache when he did that.

Frowning, he glanced to his right, eyes falling on his reflection in a mirror resting above a dresser, and gasped sharply in surprise. The right side of his face felt like one big bruise, and his eye was nearly swollen shut, he was sure that was why nothing looked right. He ignored it, touching his head slowly, to gauge the damage inflicted there. He was surprised to feel hair and solid scalp instead of sponge, and lowered his hands, noting that they were clean and lacking blood, too.

He turned his head to the left slowly, wincing a little as he did that, and stared in shock at the long, ugly stitching running just below the cheekbone, stopping just short of his ear. He reached up slowly to touch it, then thought better of that, letting his hand drop back down. Why was his face laced up like a god damned football? He was pretty sure there had been more damage than this. He had spotty memories of being attacked by the old man – had Wily decided to fix him up after all that? It didn't seem likely. Then he remembered the lab. He had run away, first walking and then crawling toward the lab.

He couldn't remember much, everything seemed hazy and disjointed, but that much he could remember. He had been going to the lab. He wasn't sure why, but something had made him go. What would have made him defy Wily like this and go to the one place he possibly hated more than the fortress? Not only was it stupid, but it was almost a guaranteed ticket for his death, the ultimate "Bad Idea".

He was sure that the fact that he was even waking up meant that he had made it to Thomas Light's lab and was probably resting somewhere in the house. So, he'd been taken in after all, despite what had happened the last time they'd opened their door to him. And if he was lying here in one piece... Where was Gospel? He would have come with him. He frowned. That was right… he had come here for Gospel, to get him help.

He drew the blankets back fully and slipped out of bed slowly, wincing when his feet slid to the floor and rested on it. Forget his face, his entire body felt like one big bruise. He frowned, angry with himself. Why had his brain turned to mush when he needed it the most? How could he have forgotten about Gospel? He sank back down on the bed, feeling weak in the knees and taking a breather before getting up for good. God, his body was spent.

He reached down to touch his knees, they both ached something fierce, and he strongly suspected they were stripped of flesh from bearing his weight on them as he'd travelled up the road to the old man's laboratory, unable to walk any longer. He was momentarily surprised to find he was wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms, whoever had cleaned him up had also taken the time to dress him, it seemed.

He was also wearing an undershirt, though that had hardly been necessary. There was enough gauze and bandages on his chest to make a shirt in of itself, likely also the product of dragging himself along like that. The faded blue and purple of the shirt looked awkward in contrast to the stark white of the bandages, wrapped around him.

He moved toward the door slowly, ignoring the throbbing protests of pain his body was making. He had to go find his support unit, before he drove himself crazy thinking about it. If he was fixed, then it was likely that Gospel was also either repaired or close to it, and right now he just wanted his wordless companion. He would feel better when he saw Gospel, the wolf would bring him comfort.

He shuffled his feet slowly, making an agonizingly long journey out of a rather short walk out of the room. He was having trouble lifting his feet off of the ground, his legs fought the movement with tooth and nail, but that was just the beginning of his trouble. His pelvis felt tender and hot, and the faintest touch of his flannel pyjama bottoms felt cruel and uncomfortable. His backside had settled into a steady low throb – damn Wily for – the thought sent a slight shiver up his spine, and more pain with it, but he hardly noticed, suddenly feeling rather ill.

Before he could stop himself, he was thinking of the sharp, stabbing pains as Wily had him, accompanied by the disorienting thrumming in his head as it had banged against the floor with every thrust. Wily had seemed so strong then, he couldn't do anything about it, prohibited by his own protocols. He couldn't hurt the old son of a bitch, as much as he'd wanted to. And those hands... Somehow the hands had been the worst part, always grabbing, squeezing, invading –

_No._ He wasn't going to think about it, about any of this. He knew if he didn't stop now it would cloud his mind, overpowering him with panic until he went mad, driven to the brink of insanity as his mind ran through endless cycles like a dog chasing its own tail. He simply cease to exist. If that didn't happen, he would be sick again, retching on the floor in a strange place, and that was somehow worse, a degradation he couldn't handle right now.

He couldn't afford to lose it now, because he had Gospel to worry about. Poor Gospel, with his proverbial guts hanging out, circuits smashed and wires slashed and frayed, needing his main unit now like never before – needing Forte. He would focus on Gospel, because it kept him _sane_, and he had to be sane to get through this in one piece. His life was a mess, he couldn't crumble now.

Thoughts threatened to rise up again and sweep him into a state of panic, telling him that Gospel was dead and it was over, all over – he reached up, delivering a sharp slap to his bruised cheek, collected enough to know not to hit his stitches. He forced himself onward, scowling. God, what was wrong with him? This wasn't him – Forte didn't panic, didn't worry like this, and he certainly didn't go smacking himself around. Enough running around in his head like a crazy asshole, he had to deal with this head on.

He focused his attention ahead, hearing voices at the end of the hall – the dining room if he remembered correctly. He limped down it painfully, at a tortuously slow pace, expecting Gospel to sense him and come padding over to him with every step. He stopped just short of passing through the doorway, resting his body against the door frame lightly and letting the cool, smooth wood soothe his aching, burning flesh. He listened quietly to a voice he could now hear clearly.

The voice he had been listening to had belonged to Rock, who sounded above all else, distressed. He leaned in a little further and watched quietly, gripping onto the trim for support. Rock was standing, his chair pushed back and pressed against the back of his legs. He looked less than happy with whatever they had been discussing, hands on his hips as he argued vehemently with his creator, something Forte would never dream of doing in his right mind.

His voice rose sharply in anger the more he spoke. "... believe you won't even try! It could work! He came to us for help, and -"

"Rock, enough." Dr. Light slammed his mug down, sighing and looking weathered, and groaned inwardly as it spilled everywhere. He grabbed his napkin and pressed it over the spill in a feeble attempt to save his tablecloth. He felt tired and irritable, arguing with Rock was not doing much to improve his mood. "It's not even plausible right now. We don't even know if he would-"

"He _would_." Rock insisted firmly, grabbing the dishtowel from Roll as she got up from her seat to clean up the spilled coffee. "I'll get it, it's my fault." he told her, sighing unhappily, and doing a more thorough job of cleaning up than the napkin had done. "Please dad..." The scientist shook his head slightly, lifting the mug for him and rubbing his face tiredly. "It's not because you don't trust him, is it?" Rock bit his lip, glancing around the table at his family worriedly. "He was hurt for real this time, he wouldn't fake being hurt like that." He gripped onto the cloth tighter, frowning.

Light sighed, patting the boy's arm lightly. "I know he was, Rock." He knew better than all of them, after all, he'd done a lot of the repairs himself, and knew well that Wily wouldn't have done half of what he'd done expecting Forte to still help him; the damage wouldn't make him a very useful fighter, and the rest... Forte would likely never go near Wily again of his own free will. No, he was relatively sure that Wily had just wanted Forte to die, but the Wily bot had been incredibly stubborn and survived. But then, he'd always been like that, hadn't he?

Rock was staring at Dr. Light hopefully, letting himself be pet and comforted, but clearly not about to give up. "Then why won't you do it?" he sniffed, sounding hurt and stressed, but not pulling away from the older man. "What are we going to say?" He sank back into his chair.

The old man leaned to the side, giving him a brief but meaningful hug, sighing. "Rock... I've done a lot for him." He thought of adding 'more than he really deserves', but didn't. That wasn't a good attitude to have, and not entirely true, either. Forte had been programmed and raised into what he was, he couldn't help it any more than the rest of them. "It's the best I can do for now. I have bills to pay, and work to be done. I'm not just giving up."

Roll sighed, speaking up and interrupting a fast approaching full fledged argument. "Poor Forte. He's-"

"Finally out of my bed. It's about damned time, too. That couch is about the most uncomfortable thing I've ever slept on, mountainsides included." Blues had been chewing on a piece of toast quietly with a tired, irritable expression on his face that only could have been gained through a bad night's sleep, combined with an early morning. He was now staring past them at the doorway, tired eyes reading Forte as he raised a brow in mild interest. "You hungry, or just in love with the trim?" He held up a box of cereal, offering it to the younger robot, but Forte shook his head idly.

He was glancing around the room quietly, looking distracted and not moving from his spot. His hand reached down and pat the side of his leg lightly, though he didn't try to whistle with his stitches – he wasn't that stupid.

Rock sighed, staring at Forte. There was a purpose to the way he was glancing around the room, scanning it. He was searching for something, and Rock had a fairly good idea of just what he was looking for. "Hi, Forte." He gave him a rather weak smile, feeling like he'd just swallowed a stone that was now sinking to the pit of his stomach. "I was starting to think you were never going to wake up. You've been asleep for three days now. Do you feel any-"

"Where's Gospel." It wasn't so much a question so much as it was an order. His hand had left his side now, but he was still scanning the room for some sign of his support unit. Rock gave him a sad look Forte could have torn the Light bot's throat out for. He didn't like that look. "He'll be hungry, he hasn't caught any rabbits in awhile. Where is he?"

Rock glanced at his family, asking wordlessly for help. Roll pulled the chair next to her out quickly. "Forte... Why don't you sit down? We have breakfast, and... and..." She trailed off, Forte wasn't listening.

He was shaking his head firmly, frowning at Rock again. Why weren't they listening? "I want to see Gospel."

Rock shifted feet, looking extremely uncomfortable. "Forte, you should really sit down and have something to eat." He offered again, though his voice had gained an edgy tone to it. He knew he was dealing with a loose cannon, Forte could go off at any time now, and probably would if he didn't have some questions answered soon.

"Where's my fucking dog?"

Rock bit his lip, getting to his feet slowly, getting ready to handle Forte if the situation went sour. "We really need to discuss some things with you." He took a step toward the taller boy, who side stepped him with surprising agility, giving his current state, but didn't attack. In fact, it seemed as if attacking hadn't even crossed his mind.

"Fuck you, Rock." he spat, and headed for the lab quickly.

Rock was right on his heels, hurrying after him. "Forte, wait!" He reached out, grabbing the back of Forte's shirt, and the younger robot turned on him, shoving him back hard. He wasn't expecting it, surprised the Wily bot even had enough strength in him to do it. It was enough force to send him reeling, caught off guard.

Forte reached the lab door before he could fully regain his footing, and he cried out after him. "Gospel's dead, Forte!" He'd had no choice. He hadn't wanted to break the new like this, but he had to warn him before he found out the hard way. It was better this way.

Forte glared at him, holding the door half open. "You're a lying sack of shit. Gospel's not-" he glanced into the room and the words died in his throat as he caught sight of the wolf. He slipped inside quietly and let the door slide shut behind him, staring at the very dead Gospel in front of him.

He was laid out on the table like a jigsaw puzzle someone had failed horribly making, and Forte tried to make a noise that just caught in his throat, fighting both a wave of nausea, and a pitching feeling threatening to force him into another blackout. But he didn't faint or vomit, he just stared.

The door slid open again behind him and Rock entered the room, but he didn't hear, didn't see. He just stared. Rock walked up to him hesitantly, looking reproachful. "... Forte... I... I'm sorry..." he set a hand on the taller, slightly more angular back in front of him and suddenly Forte became a life wire, snapping around and grabbing him by the throat.

He squeezed hard, throttling the shorter boy who had just helped him mere days ago. He opened his mouth wide and practically howled in rage and depression, consumed by the loss of the only thing keeping him going; his life. "_I'll fucking kill you! You caused this! It's your fault! __**Your fault!**__"_ He bent Rock back further, squeezing harder, beginning to crush Rock's throat. "_If you hadn't interrupted!_" He stopped making sense at that point and reverted to screaming and roaring incoherently, fingers digging into the older boy's neck as he throttled him hard.

Rock groped around blindly for something to fend Forte off with, starting to see spots. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't call for help, but he was sure someone had heard Forte's screaming, and was presently more concerned with Forte tearing his throat out with his bare hands, then going for the next person who came through the door. He didn't want to hurt him, he just-

Blues grabbed Forte from behind, twisting his arms behind his back roughly and trying to pry him off his brother, who was really having a number done on him. It wasn't a success, Forte wasn't going to let go that easily, but it let up enough that Rock was able to gasp a little for air and clear his mind enough to fight back.

Rock placed a foot on Forte's stomach, pushing hard and Forte tore away, taking a considerable amount of the skin on Rock's neck with him but leaving his throat otherwise intact. Rock panted hard, relieved, and the spots faded away. He found he could think better, though his throat still felt the strain of Forte's fingers against it.

He got up weakly, covering his bleeding neck with his hands, and backed away from the Wily bot. Forte didn't go after him again, the last act of rage had weakened him again, and he seemed to lose all interest in strangling Rock. He simply let his legs give out under him, and Blues let go as the Wily bot slid to the floor, grabbing Rock and pulling him out of the room quickly.

Forte hardly noticed, breathing heavily, and ceased his yelling. His mouth stung sharply, and he tasted blood, but he hardly cared or noticed. He gripped onto his pyjama bottoms, panting hard, and suddenly the tears came. They were alien, Forte had never cried before, but he had withdrawn so deep into himself that he hardly noticed.

His body shook hard, racked with sobs, and he started to scream again, but he was keening this time. The deep, intense rage was gone, and now he didn't even have that to fall back on.

Rock took a step toward the lab, the door was still open, and he could see Forte suffering, determined to help him. A hand drew him back again, and he almost resisted it, expecting Blues, but it was Dr. Light this time. "Leave him, Rock." he murmured lowly, hitting a button on the panel to close the door. "He needs to be alone now."

Rock stared at Forte's huddled, crouching form as the door slid shut. It broke his heart, but he realized that nothing he said would help Forte in the slightest right now. "O-okay..." He sunk onto the couch, still holding his throat, and listened to Forte's muffled shrieking, waiting for the calm after the storm.


	7. Part 1: The Calm After the Storm

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: Just a short one guys, sorry. I couldn't find a better way to split this from the next chapter. *shrug* Review if you like it, thank you. :)

"_Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. - Norman Cousins_

_**Chapter Seven – The Calm After the Storm**_

Forte's cries went on for a long time, first weakening to a wail, then finally trailing off completely well after an hour. After that, there was only silence, and the faint ticking of the living room clock, rhythmic and soothing. Roll and Dr. Light had since left their company, and that left only Rock and Blues, though he strongly suspected that Blues was only there in case he did something his brother deemed "stupid."

Rock was secretly relieved that Forte was recovering from all those injuries, burning more energy and storing less, it probably would have gone on for even longer, and he wasn't sure if he would have been able to handle that. The shrieking had been a horrible, unnatural sound, and it was just too much coming from Forte. The violet haired boy had by far been one of the most ruthless, heartless people he had ever met, and hearing him reduced to helpless tears had been nothing short of a nightmare.

He got to his feet quietly, listening intently, and Blues snapped his head in Rock's direction, he had slipped off at some point. "What are you doing?" he whispered harshly, frowning a little and sitting up straighter.

Rock put his finger to his lips and whispered back quietly. "I think he's asleep. I just want to check up on him." He listened quietly for a sign that Forte had heard him and woken up, but he didn't get one, and he went over to the panel, wincing when the door slid open with an audible hum, but he still heard nothing. A glance showed him that the taller boy was still sleeping, completely dead to the world, and looking surprisingly peaceful, despite all the screaming he had just done only hours ago.

He stepped into the lab quietly, staring at him sullenly. He had never even tried to move from where he had fallen, he'd simply hunched forward until his face rested on his arms and literally cried himself to sleep. This wasn't the Forte he knew, and he tried to ignore the unpleasant feeling building up in the pit of his stomach.

"Forte...?" he whispered, though he already knew that the younger boy was out again, and probably would be for awhile. Somehow, despite all his screaming and struggling, he hadn't split his stitches, but they were crusted in blood from being stretched, and he suspected Forte had just added a few days to the healing process. He sighed deeply and lifted him up carefully, carrying him out awkwardly.

He crept out of the lab with him as quietly as possible. He was pretty sure that Forte would be out for awhile yet, but Dr. Light and Roll had already gone to bed. Light had went up the stairs and slipped into bed hours ago. H is lab had temporarily been taken over by the violet haired boy and was still exhausted from all the extra hours he had spent working tirelessly on him and Gospel.

Roll had left because she simply couldn't handle the crying anymore. She had slipped upstairs shortly after they had shut him in the lab, and Blues had stayed up with Rock, helping him put bandages on his neck and keeping him company while he waiting for Forte to just run out of gas. He had dozed a little, but Rock had been sitting, waiting alertly for a sign that Forte was done.

Blues was sitting up straight now, staring hard at the television, and keeping an ear cocked for any sounds of trouble coming from Rock, and looked up as Rock came shuffling into the living room, balancing Forte on his back. He groaned audibly, grabbing a pillow. "Again?" He'd already half made a bed on the couch.

Rock shook his head a little, adjusting Forte slightly. "He might wake up and be afraid, or lonely. He can sleep with me, in my bed. Besides, you hate the couch." He started for the staircase, when Blues hissed lowly after him.

"Rock, you can't be serious. Are you crazy? He already snapped and strangled you half to death once!" He got up, cursing under his breath. "It's just a stupid couch, I'll sleep on it. Don't you dare put him in bed with you, Dr. Light will be pissed off if you do." That probably wasn't true, but it was usually the only threat that worked with Rock.

Rock glanced back at him, shushing him. "No he won't. Dad hardly ever gets mad. Now keep your voice down before you wake him up, he's tired. He's not going to strangle me anymore, don't worry." He adjusted the taller boy slightly, then started up the stairs slowly.

"How do you know he won't wake up and finish the job? It's not a good idea." He followed Rock up to the steps hurriedly. Why was his brother so damned stubborn sometimes? He wondered where he got it from, he was nowhere near as stubborn as Rock, and neither were the rest of them. As far as he was concerned, Light had just been making trouble for himself when he'd programmed Rock.

Rock turned to him carefully, mindful not to let Forte slip out of his grasp and fall down the bottom three steps. "I just know. I think he's over that part now." He leaned forward slightly as Forte shifted slightly, wincing as he clenched his hands slightly, digging his nails into Rock's chest. Maybe he wasn't sleeping as well as he'd thought. "And he's exhausted. I'll be up before he even wakes up."

Blues groaned quietly, frustrated with Rock and cursing on him for all the trouble he caused him. "Rock, look." But Rock was already shaking his head. "Fine, but I'm tired and going to bed now." He nodded to himself decidedly. If Rock was going to go sleep in the same bed as someone who'd just tried to kill him, he'd be damned if he wouldn't be as nearby as possible when it happened.

Rock smiled a little, nodding. "Alright." He knew what Blues was doing, the elder brother's room was on the left side of Rock's, and he would be able to hear the slightest scuffle from there. He turned back around slowly, and descended the rest of the way up the stairs, Blues at his feet.


	8. Part 1: Kind Words

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: Long chapter. .o Working on a small, short fic, and I'm pretty sure I'm getting pneumonia again (water on the luuungs~ p.q), so if you don't see anything from me next Sunday, you can rest assured that it probably was, and that I'm probably dead/dying/recovering again. I love my immune system. Massively busy at work still, but I'm slowly getting over my random writer's block though I haven't picked up my pen and finished the first part yet.

_Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. _

_~ Leo Buscaglia_

_**Chapter Eight –Kind Words**_

Rock had been right in both aspects. Apart from a few rather nasty sounding nightmares he only ever half woke up from, Forte slept well through the night, and when he finally came around he was alone in the room. As far as Rock could tell, he hadn't even noticed he'd been placed in another room, though he didn't seem to notice much of anything.

When he went upstairs to make sure he was okay, he noticed Forte hadn't even shifted position since waking up. He was still lying on his side, looking somehow fetal to the older robot. And he stayed there like that for the entire day, before finally venturing downstairs. His eyes seemed hollow, almost soulless, and he refused to talk to anyone. Rock had never thought he would miss Forte's verbal abuse, but it was better than this. Anything was better than this.

Roll tried a few times to get him to try a bite or two of dinner, but Forte never so much as cast a glance in her direction, retreating into the other room. She'd left a plate of sweets out, but with little hope of them actually being consumed.

Rock had even caught Blues staring at the violet haired boy reproachfully as if considering going over to talk to him. He refused to go back upstairs, instead pacing in front of the lab door quietly. He never went in, however.

It went on like this for nearly a week, at first Forte's midnight pacing had robbed the Light household of sleep, but then even that slowed, and Forte simply moped. He was doing just that, late Saturday night, when the door creaked open slowly. Rock poked his head out tentatively, understandable considering how their last conversation went. Forte turned his head a little to see who was invading his personal space, then disregarded him, settling back into his original position. He took this as a sign that Forte probably wasn't going to wring his neck again, and crept over to him. "H-hi Forte. Are you ... Alright?" He perched lightly on the railing of the staircase. Forte didn't even look up, let alone answer, and he sighed, trying again. "I'm really sorry about what happened."

Nothing. Rock inched a little closer, leaning down more and giving it another try. "Say... If you want, we can share Rush. That way-"

"Go away." Forte hissed, head still tucked between his knees. "I don't want to share your stupid dog. Do you think that would fix anything? Just leave me alone." He returned to ignoring the older robot.

Rock regarded him for a few seconds, irritated with the way Forte was handling the situation. It just wasn't healthy. "What good is skulking around the house, staying mad at everyone going to do?" he asked, voice sharper than originally intended. "Gospel died, not you! You're still alive, so start acting like it! Stop running away, like-" Forte grabbed him roughly, thrusting him back against the railing, and they both seemed temporarily lost in their place, each forgetting what they were about to say. The sudden heat of rage had slowly left Forte, and now he just stood, gripping the front of Rock's shirt quietly. "Forte..." he tried again.

"I said leave me alone." he muttered plaintively, letting go and stalking off around the corner of the house.

Rock watched him go in silence, then sighed, stepping back inside and glancing up, surprised to see Dr. Light standing there. He wondered if they had been fighting that loudly. He felt suddenly ashamed at having lost his temper like that, uncomfortable. "I tried to talk to Forte..." he started, but never finished. He suddenly felt very guilty. "It didn't go very well. I think I said the wrong things. I... I just made him angry."

Dr. Light sighed, giving him a furtive smile. "I know, I heard." He closed the distance between them and gave him a slight hug. "You did your best, don't worry. I think this is one of those situations where you should let me try my hand at it." Rock nodded and he smiled a little. "Don't worry, Forte will be his usual self soon, I would imagine. Not that it's necessarily going to be a good thing." He winked and Rock cracked a small smile as the old man headed to the door.

He stepped out onto the porch and looked around for Forte, not seeing him at first. Then he spotted him off in the distance, pacing slowly around an old oak tree around the back, tearing strips slowly off a leaf. He slipped his shoes on slowly, then headed over there to join with the Wily bot.

Forte turned slightly, hearing his approaching steps, then looked away quickly to return to the leaf he was currently destroying, but not before Dr. Light got a good look at his face and saw that he was crying again. He sighed heavily. Despite everything else Forte was, there was still a bit of a child left in him somewhere An angry, mistreated child, maybe, the kind likely to start fires in wastepaper baskets and grow to be a real basket case, but still a child. He would have to handle the situation with a lot of caution, that child was packing a lot of fire power if he decided to throw a tantrum.

"Hello, Forte. Care to accompany an old man on an evening stroll?" He fell in step beside Forte, who broke free from the track he was running around the tree, instinctively falling into place slightly behind him, used to his routine of following Wily . There was no such thing as walking next to his creator. Light sensed an uncomfortable tension and slowed down until they walked side by side again, and this time Forte kept the position. He never would have pegged Forte as the type to be afraid of humans. Wily had done a lot of harm to his creation, and he was starting to think even Wily hadn't realized that yet.

They walked on in silence for awhile, Forte's eyes shifting from that dead, haunted look to occasionally look Light over, sometimes with a curious air, sometimes with an almost fearful air. Finally, they arrived at an old bus stop, long since abandoned as Dr. Light had bought off more surrounding property for testing zones and just general privacy. "I hope you don't mind if we rest here for a short while, I'm not as young anymore, and I often come here to think."

Forte, who hadn't a word during the course of their evening stroll, simply nodded and stood next to the bench like a posted guard, staring ahead at nothing, being slowly consumed by the guilt, sadness, and anger in his thoughts, and the skeletons in his closet. Gospel would have loved a walk like this, and if Forte hadn't fucked up, then he may have been sitting here with him, enjoying all this, but Forte had fucked up bad, and-

Dr. Light, seeing the inner torment occurring on Forte's pale face and intense stare, set a hand on his head lightly, soothingly, and broke the chain of thoughts straightaway. "Come sit down." He pulled Forte onto the bench next to him, and Forte tensed sharply, but the doctor made no movement past that, finally speaking after a long pause_. _"It's a nice night for some long, reflective thought. The stars are especially clear, I find it helps me think."

"Not for me they're not." Forte mumbled lowly; it was the first thing he'd said since his outburst, and probably the first thing he'd said toward how he was really feeling. He didn't care how clear they were, as far as he was concerned, they didn't exist. Only that thick, dark blanket of depression existed for him now.

He settled down on the bench again, having made room enough for Forte to have a little space between them. "I know it hurts. But you're not alone anymore. This isn't going to be like before, Forte." That knowledge alone seemed to hold some weight with the boy and he suddenly seemed a little more animated.

Forte stared at him quietly, still looking a little dazed, but listening this time. His eyes had cleared up a little. "Dr. Light..."

He smiled a little, that was a lot nicer than what he was sure Forte had used to call him in his absence. "Tom, Forte." He'd told all his creations countless times they could call him Tom if they wanted, or dad if they really felt comfortable enough, but so far only Rock had made the change successfully. He had a feeling Forte might appreciate something less formal, though.

"Tom, then." He stopped at that, eyes threatening to lose themselves in his thoughts again, but he pressed on finally, reluctantly. "... I... loved Gospel." The word sounded awkward and strange rolling off of Forte's tongue, but Light said nothing. "I don't really know what love is... but I know it's how I felt about him." He fell quiet, working his jaw slowly, not sure what to say, worried anything he might would come out ridiculous. "It's all over for me now. He was all I had..." The light that had made a brief reappearance in his eyes seemed to fade, dying out a little again, and he withdrew into himself a little.

The old man tilted Forte's chin up from where it was drooped over his collarbone, so the boy could see the sky. "It's not over. The world's still around, Forte. Time's still passing." He would have said more, but the reaction was almost immediate. The violet haired boy hadn't moved, but a small tremor coursed up through him, like an elastic that had been stretched too tight and was getting ready to just snap and lash anything too close to it at the time. His eyes had clouded over and that all too familiar hate was back in them. He prepared himself for Forte to blow up or to just crumple, yet he did neither.

The voice that came out was tight and small with many emotions, fear likely the dominant one. "Don't, please. If you came out here for that..." Dr. Light moved his hand away and Forte's voice went with it. He felt ill suddenly, and resting a hand on the back of his head, realized he was covered with a sheen of sweat. Everything was starting to spiral out of control now, with a speed that was nearly dizzying. Had he really come here to seek sanctuary? Had he thought it would be different?

Light saw he was starting to give way to barely contained panic and slid back over, giving him space. "Forte, calm down. I'm not Wily, I wouldn't do that to you." He had a few seconds to realize that this was going to be the moment he snapped before it happened.

Forte glared at him, voice little more than a hoarse whisper, but it didn't hinder him from conveying the message he intended to send. The fear, hate, anger, panic, all the emotions he'd kept bottled up flew out in a single moment, colliding with each other and snowballing to frightening proportions. "Liar! You fucking perverted liar! You get me out here alone, and now you're going to-"

"Forte, calm down." he asserted firmly, knowing it was of no real use and wondering if he should have had this conversation somewhere less private and more comfortable, more _safe_ for the both of them. He would have suggested it to him, but Forte was on a full diatribe now, and kept right on going as his voice rose steadily to a yell. He wouldn't have listened to the older man now, even if he had made the offer.

"-_fuck me_! Oh yeah, coming here was a mistake, no wonder you were so eager to let me in, but it's too late to leave now, and now you're going to have me, it's time to pay the piper, and-"

"Forte."

"-the bill's never-"

"_Forte._"

"-cheap, is it." He broke off now, suddenly looking every bit as dead as he had live and animated only seconds before. The colour had left his face, leaving it an ashen grey against deceivingly bright violet stripes... His eyes were still alive, though, and even the steely, contemptuous glare in his eyes couldn't mask the underlying spite and fear.

"I _wouldn't._" Forte didn't say anything else, and he let silence fall between them, though it was thick and uncomfortable this time. Forte was gathering his thoughts, letting the conversation catch up with him, for better or worse. Dr. Light settled back against the concrete again, ignoring the arthritic pain in his hips, burning and swelling, promising another sleepless night. He wanted to get up and stretch, move away from the damp, mossy growth on the bench, encouraging and deepening the ache while cushioning his body from the rough, hard concrete, but he didn't dare try to move away. The conversation wasn't over yet, he could sense it. "That's not how we do things here, Forte. Not at all."

Forte nodded slightly, shifting slowly until his feet rested on the moss in front of his body, fighting pain of his own as his skin pulled tight against cuts and scrapes that were in the process of healing and that now familiar, raw ache at the base of his spine, just a phantom of what it had once been. He rested his chin atop his knees and seemed to fade, withdrawing into himself for awhile.

Dr. Light let him, preparing himself for whatever was coming next, something almost impossible when dealing with someone who currently was an emotional roller coaster. At first he thought it would be another sharp outburst of anger, but it never came. A long time passed, Forte completely stationary. He had just begun to think that maybe that was it after all, maybe Forte had fallen asleep when he finally spoke up again, the anger and most of the rest of his emotion completely gone from his voice.

"Tom." He was still in the same position, body slack, but his head was turned toward him, cheek rested between the rise of his knees, face slightly cradled. His eyes had a dark, almost murky look to them, as though he was stirring from a deep sleep, and there was a slight crease on his cheek from a fold in his jeans.

Dr. Light doubted he'd slipped off for even a second, though. He doubted Forte would rest well for awhile yet. He gave him a weak, furtive smile. "Yes, Forte?" He shifted again, turning to face him more, and this time his hips really did creak with a faint snapping noise, like a dry twig.

"Wily fucked me." He wasn't sure why he felt the need to state it so bluntly, the old man had to have known, he'd woken up in considerably less pain than when he'd passed out, hadn't he? It hadn't fixed itself, at least he didn't think so. It seemed so long ago, somehow, and it was hard to remember. Everything felt distant now, and he wondered esoterically if he was depressed.

Thomas was a little startled by the frank proclamation. There was little change in his face, and there was something earnest in his gaze that left him too heartbroken to correct his poor choice in words. The boy was starting to open up, and a reprimand might slam the proverbial door he'd let open a crack. He sighed softly. "I know he did, Forte. I know what he did to you." In a way he knew better than even Forte did, he had seen what the poor boy hadn't been able to, knew how reckless Wily had been with his creation's more delicate region. With haemorrhaging like there had been, a human probably would have died. The pain must have been ungodly.

Forte was still staring at him, face a mask. "He raped me, then he fucked me up."

"I know, Forte." Light murmured consolingly.

"Then he killed Gospel, just to fuck me up more."

"It's okay, Forte." A little life had returned to Forte's eyes, and Light decidedly didn't like the look in them. There was hate in them, and he had a feeling it was more self loathing than it was directed toward Wily or anyone else. It wasn't a good look.

"Is it?" At first it seemed like badly conveyed sarcasm, but Forte was genuinely seeking an answer. "I don't think it is. I can't let it go. Gospel died because I fucked up."

"Forte-" Light tried and was abruptly cut off.

"Because of me."

"Forte, that's not how it is." he tried again. But forte wouldn't hear it, he could tell. He had to let the venom he held in him, before it poisoned him further.

"He wouldn't have done it if I hadn't failed, you know. It's because of me. And now I'm alone." His posture was still the same, still relaxed and cool, but his eyes still glowered.

Light sighed, choosing his words well, then tried again. "I know it seems that way now, but it was Wily's wrong doing, not yours. He would have done it sooner or later." Forte was shaking his head, he pressed on. "You'll have to forgive yourself eventually. I understand it's easier this way, but-"

Forte laughed, it wasn't a malicious laugh, but a sharp, braying laughter, filled with self loathing and sounding almost crazy. "You understand. You haven't the slightest idea."

"I understand, Forte. Sometimes it's easier to blame yourself. It feels more rational, and it makes the situation easier to handle." Forte's eyes flooded with hot, angry tears suddenly, and he reached over, resting a hand over his shoulders. The boy tried to throw it off wildly, but he kept it there, offering him his handkerchief.

"Go ahead, let it out. Rock had a point, although he doesn't realize how deep to the bone your wounds are, They're so deep they're cutting into your very being, and wounds like that have to be licked, or they'll poison your mind, like a bad infection. Just don't suffer it alone. No one's going to use it against you, or hurt you. We don't do that kind of thing here. I don't do that kind of thing." He sighed, looking thoughtful, and murmured. "You should talk to Blues sometime, if you ever get the chance."

Forte took the handkerchief and cried long and hard into it, but this time there was now howling or self destructive behaviour. When he was done they got up together and started back in a pair. Light promised to do what he could for Gospel, but not to get his hope up. It was the last time Forte cried for a long, long time.

When they arrived back at the house, Rock was waiting for them worriedly. They had been gone for a few hours, and he was starting to think something had happened to them. Dr. Light could have fallen, or worse yet, Wily might have come looking for Forte. But they both looked fine, as far as he could tell. Better than fine, actually. Forte's face looked less pale and strained than it had since the day he had arrived, over a week ago. As the two got closer, he found that Forte even had the faintest hint of a smile on his face while the doctor regaled him with an old tale from his younger days.

"... and that's when I realized that psychology just wasn't my cup of tea. There's no room for truth in that field, believe it or not." He smiled up at Rock, spotting him, and broke away from Forte, heading up the steps tot he house. "Still, some of my best memories are from my high school days. Ah, to be a boy again." He pat Rock's head as he passed, ruffling his hair lightly and giving no indication of what had happened during his time alone with Forte. He would take that to the grave, being a firm believer in confidentiality. "Night, boys. Don't stay up all night, you need your rest as much as anyone else, despite what Blues seems to think."

"Night, dad." Rock called after him with a smile, unable to hide the relief he felt. That could have gone worse, in fact, judging by the look of things, it had gone rather well. He yawned widely and gave a small gasp while exhaling, when he heard Forte call after the old man in a polite and almost cheerful voice.

"Goodnight, Tom." The taller boy lifted a hand up in a pseudo wave, fingers splayed slightly. The door shut and his arm dropped back down to his side as the two robots were left to contend with each other. The smile fell from his face slowly, and he found himself staring at Rock and feeling awkward, hoping he wouldn't ask what happened. That somehow seemed like a very bad thing, and he'd had his fill of that for awhile. He passed him quickly, heading for the door.

"Forte?" He turned his head slightly, and Rock stared at him, hesitating a moment before continuing. "Do you feel... better?" Forte looked exceedingly uncomfortable with that question, and he added quickly, "you look a lot better, and I thought maybe you might want to go to the park tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it. I'm taking Rush."

Forte didn't answer, staring at him analytically and apparently thinking it over, so he continued. "It's not too far from here, and no one ever goes there, so we'll have lots of privacy, and-" He stopped, surprised. Forte was nodding his head slowly, as if surprised to find himself agreeing to it. He fought back an ecstatic response, not wanting to overwhelm the younger bot, and just smiled wider.

"As long as it's not at the crack of dawn." He yawned, mostly for show, and retreated into the house quickly, heading for the living room and pausing as he passed the door leading to Dr. Light's laboratory. For the first time since he'd dragged Gospel to the driveway, he passed it without going in. For reasons unknown to him, he decided to trust Dr. Light on his promise to do his best for his support unit and try to make the best of things. As he lay back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, he hoped he wasn't setting himself up for a big disappointment. If there was such a thing as too good to be true, he was staring it in the face.

He heard the door creak open slowly as Rock slipped into the house, trying not to wake Forte up. He closed his eyes as he heard Rock's footsteps draw nearer, feigning sleep. They stopped as Rock stood there a moment watching him, then he heard them slowly retreat. He didn't want to talk to him right now, he found that while he really didn't hate Rock anymore – maybe he was too busy hating himself – he still didn't like the older robot all that much. He hoped the excursion to the park would change that a little, because they were going to be around each other for what could potentially become a very long time.

He rolled over, facing an old couch cushion quietly, and thought back to the last serious conversation he'd had with Tom before they had switched over to lighter topics. He had been following the older man quietly, staring at the driveway he had originally arrived from, off in the distance now, when the man had spoken up suddenly, as though he had known what Forte had been thinking. "You don't have to leave."

Forte had glanced up at him, startled, and Tom had continued. "When you're done healing, you can keep right on staying if you'd like. In fact, I would like you to, and I know I'm not the only one. It's safer." He hadn't said it was because he thought Forte would end up back in Wily's hands if he was on his own, but then he hadn't really needed to. Wily was apt to find him sooner or later if Forte was out living with the general populace, unless he ran pretty damned far. And that was something he wasn't likely to do if there was a chance of Gospel being repaired.

Forte had thought it over for a few moments, knowing that it was the best chance if he planned on living, then he had agreed.

He lay awake until well into the early morning, wondering what his new life was going to be like. When he finally did fall asleep, there was a feeling of relief he hadn't had in a long, long time.


	9. Part 1: Adjustments

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: Wow I'm late with this. _;;; sorry guys, but I at least have a good excuse XD;;; In the last month or so I've been sick in every way possible, so with that, plus the launch with our new client at work PLUS Christmas/New Years, etc. I just didn't get the time to update .o; So instead, I took the small chapter I was originally going to post, and stuck it together with the longer one, creating a super*chapter for this week, to make up for it.

I can't promise I won't disappear like this again for a few weeks, unfortunately. I've been so utterly sick that I've had a hard time making it through my shifts day to day, but I can't afford to not go to work. This leaves me with little time outside of work when I'm really functioning and feeling up to stuff. I've got a lot of doctors appointments and whatnot coming up, and I'm supposedly going to get a call from my doctor's with a specialist appointment at some point in my life. _; "Free" healthcare is a double edged sword. .-.;;

Anyway, enjoy the chapter, things are finally starting to push ahead in the fic, my god this one's so long XD;;; And again, sorry. .-.;

_"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."_

_~Anatole France_

_**Chapter Nine - Adjustments **_

Forte sighed to himself as he slipped the t-shirt that Rock had lent him for their little excursion to the park on, rolling his eyes a little at how tight it was on him. A glance down showed how short Rock really was, the shirt ended just short of his navel, leaving an inch or two of bare flesh before the tight track pants he had also borrowed – ending somewhere along the shins and looking more like a pair of Capri's than anything. Great. It was bad enough that he was getting molested by old men, he thought bitterly, but now he looked like a paedophile's wet dream. He heard footsteps approaching and looked up, feeling utterly ridiculous.

Blues wandered into the room, took one glance at him, and bit back a rather loud snort. Forte felt colour rise to his cheeks angrily, and sighed, focusing on the floor as if there were something incredibly interesting there. Blues shrugged apologetically, though it never reached the grin plastered on his face and he didn't really look the part. He shook his head, glancing him over. "You look utterly ridiculous."

"I noticed, thanks." Forte shot him a rather nasty glare, and sighed. "I look about as gay as I feel in this stupid getup." He tried to tug his shirt down more, sighing. "Isn't there a jacket or something I can use? This is just degrading." Blues reached into the closet, pulling out a long jacket and tossing it to him before taking a seat.

Forte slipped it on quickly and sighed in relief. Though it didn't come down as far as the jacket was originally intended, it at least kept his midsection from view, and hid how painted on tight the shirt was. That was a start. "That any better?" He grumbled, trying to look more relaxed and failing.

"If you can call a dinner jacket and some track clothes that are waaay too small for you "better" than you look just grand. But it helps." He pat next to him, leaning back and keeping a brow raised. "Come here. I want to talk to you for a minute, before you go anywhere with my little brother." The vague smile on Blues' lips was gone now, replaced instead with a slight frown.

Forte groaned inwardly and sat down next to him, settling back and preparing for a lecture. Blues' hand came down on his shoulder with a steely grip, and he frowned more, reaffirming Forte's belief that this was not going to be a chat about not talking to strangers. "You say you're here to start over, and I'm willing to believe that to a degree, but you'd do well to remember whose brother you're going to pal around with."

Forte tugged his arm free quickly , he still didn't like being touched much, and gave him a sour glance. "I'm not that stupid. I'm not up to anything, I just want to get out of the house. I don't even like him." Blues didn't seem to like this comment very much, and he leaned in dangerously close.

"I'm keeping my eye on you, Forte, so it would be pretty stupid of you to try anything with him. If you so much as look at him the wrong way…" But Forte wasn't listening. Blues was in full lecturing mode, and he was too busy trying to put as much space between them as the loveseat could possibly allow. Blues frowned more at that, watching him closely behind his darkly tinted glasses, but didn't call him on it.

He spoke again, but his voice was less threatening, less warning. "Don't' fuck around, and you don't have anything to worry about. Alright?" His face still had a deep frown glued on it, but it seemed somehow void now, his mind was on other things.

Forte nodded a little, embarrassed at his flinching, but not about to let anyone get that close to him again anytime soon. "Yeah, sure. I'm just doing it to shut him up." He wanted nothing more than to get up and move away from the eldest Light bot, but doing so would make him look and feel like a pussy, and he didn't back down from confrontation. "Not that it's any of your business."

Blues recognized that aggressive streak right away, surprised at how relieved he was to see it. Maybe things would finally get back to normal. "You just thinking about that." He got up, staring at him thoughtfully for a moment, then headed up the stairs quietly, leaving him to slip his shoes on and find Rock.

Forte was just tying up the last lace to an old pair of running shoes he'd found in the closet, when he heard Rock speak up from behind him loudly. He sounded ridiculously cheery, almost to the level of someone who just won the jackpot in the lottery. That sent an irritated shiver up his spine, considering it was just a trip to the damned park.

"You're really coming!"

Forte rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm coming, you idiot. I told you I was going to come." He was still a little weirded out by his conversation with Blues. Had he honestly thought that he was going to screw around with Rock? If he did that, he'd have nowhere to go, and a face full of stitches to contend with alone, having no one to pull them, just to add insult to injury. "What's wrong with you people?" he muttered to himself, but Rock hadn't seemed to have heard anyway.

"I wasn't sure if you were actually going to come, though." He looked immensely relieved, and Forte got the feeling that he had been almost sure that Forte wasn't going to come at all, and had already been preparing himself for the disappointment. How unreliable did everyone think he was?

And how stupid. He really couldn't afford to have Rock sore at him right now, not until he was at least more healed. Sure, the old man had said he could stay, but people made a lot of promises, and seemed to break them a lot, How often did they really keep them anyway? He wasn't stupid, he knew he wasn't out of the fire yet.

"Let's just go before it gets hot out." He sighed, following Rock down the driveway and out to the park, checking out his surroundings as he went.

Rock pitched the ball for Rush again, watching the dog bound off after it, shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun. Things had been going a lot better since Dr. Light had pulled Forte aside and talked to him almost a week ago. He still had no idea what the words passed between them had been, and probably never would, but it had worked wonders. Not that he was surprised, really.

Despite the older man's jokes on the subject, he hadn't stopped taking psychology after high school, and had actually managed a degree in it over the years. Sometimes Rock thought that was why the robots he built always turned out so well. He didn't just understand how they functioned, like Wily. He understood how they _thought_, and used that to help guide them through life's tougher decisions. And he was good at it too, really good.

Rush bounded back to him and dropped the ball back in his hand, immediately taking off after it again as Rock threw it further. Still, Forte was a hard case to crack, and he thought it would be a long time before the violet haired boy really adjusted, if he ever did. His father was amazing at what he did, but couldn't walk on water or part the Red Sea, and he suspected it would take nothing short of a miracle for Forte to ever really recover from what had happened.

He never given much thought to how much Gospel must have meant to the younger robot. He hadn't really thought about it until the night he'd offered to share Rush with him. He loved Rush, he was a good dog, and he would be upset if he lost him, but... It was different. He'd spent hours going over that argument before he really understood Forte's situation. Gospel wasn't just a pet to him, or a support unit, or even a friend. The wolf represented Forte's entire sense of family.

Rock had made himself think of how he would feel if his entire family was suddenly taken from him. Not just removed from his present life, but gone forever, without any home of ever seeing them again. Completely wiped from the face of the planet. The thought had caused a gut wrenching feeling, and he'd almost pushed it from his mind completely, not wanting to think about it.

But he had. He'd thought long and hard , then he'd furthered it by trying to imagine himself then being forced to leave everything he had ever known, his home, his lifestyle, everything familiar and comfortable and being made to live with strangers, people he didn't really know or like, not to mention that they were likely rather not fond of him.

The thought had left him feeling sick. He was always going on and on to Forte about how badly he wanted to be friends with the boy, but what steps had he ever really taken toward it? What had he done to try and make Forte more comfortable where he was? How much of a friend had he actually been? After that he hadn't slept at all, he'd simply lay awake the rest of the night, laden with guilt because the answer was simple – he hadn't been much of a friend at all. He'd been a pretty good host, but that was it.

And he had been trying since to rectify his mistake, hard as that was. He wandered over to Forte, who was leaned back against a tree with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and his eyes shut, looking a little too relaxed.

The violet haired boy opened an eye, gold swimming in the sunlight cast into its iris, and gave a slight grunt of acknowledgement. He couldn't really be bothered to muster up much more than that. The nightmares had started up four nights ago, and had since been robbing him steadily of sleep. Unfortunately, without much sleep he had started doing some pretty stupid things.

Such as the point in case. He had fallen sleep with a cigarette in his mouth, something to add to the Great Ideas list, but it had only been for a few moments, smoke was still spiralling off the stick idly, and there was only half an inch or so of ash capping the end, so it couldn't have been much longer than that. Not that big a deal, but still...

Still, he thought a little undisturbed rest was almost worth dealing with a couple of burned lips. He doubted Rock would grant him his rest, however. "What?" he asked finally, when Rock settled next to him under the cool shade of the trees.

Rock sighed at him, and he could tell the older robot was just itching to chide him. "I really wish you wouldn't do that, it can't be good for you filtration system, you know." He pulled the cigarette from Forte's lips, who rolled his eyes at that, then gave it a light flick away from them. Forte wondered irritably if the little bastard knew he was littering, little self-righteous bastard that he was, but Rock interrupted, taking advantage of the fact that he had his attention. "Besides, you fell asleep again, like yesterday."

Forte opened his mouth to protest, but he cut him off. "You've been doing that a lot, lately." It was a non-committal comment, but the wheels were slowly turning in Rock's head, and Forte suddenly looked uncomfortable. This was it. "If the couch is too uncomfortable, you can just say, Forte. Blues complains about it _all_ the time, says he's going to get impaled on a spring one of these days."

Forte bit back a surprisingly bitter comment at that.

_Let the poison. _

He only wished his problems were something that simple. Still, it kept Rock from asking unnecessary questions, with even more unnecessary answers. That was something he didn't want, the thought almost caused a small shudder in him. That would be the ultimate embarrassment, having to tell Rock he was having nightmares and he almost couldn't handle them. "It sucks, but losing a little sleep won't kill me." Losing his mind, though...

Rock considered this a second. It was something else, that much was obvious, but he could tell Forte wasn't about to tell him what. He doubted Forte would confide anything him unless he tried a little harder to get to really know him. "Want to have a sleepover, then?" Forte groaned rather audibly at that, obviously not very fond of the idea, and he pressed on. "Come on, it could be fun. We could rent some movies, and maybe play some cards. At the very least, if it bores you, you could always sleep, and get some real rest. It's bound to be better than sleeping on the couch."

Forte was staring at Rock, trying to decide whether or not he was actually serious. That wasn't just a stupid idea, it was outright retarded. He opened his mouth to tell him that of course it would be boring, not to mention idiotic, and there was no way he was going to do it, but somehow that got mixed up somewhere and came out as "sure". Maybe he was retarded, not the idea.

_Let the poison._

Rush came trotting back to the boys, but Rock didn't throw the ball again. Instead, he pulled Forte to his feet, who went grudgingly, and they picked up a few movies and a deck of cars at the local rental store. Forte spent a good part of the walk wondering whether he'd lost his mind.

"Hit me."

"Rock, you're at twenty."

"Hit me! It's an ace for sure!"

"... That's retarded. Fine, you asked for it."

"Hurry up and hit me!"

Forte rolled his eyes and hit him. It wasn't an ace, of course, it was a six, but he wasn't really surprised. Rock hadn't won a single hand. "You're bust. God, Rock, you're awful at this game. I've never won on an eight before." The movie had been dull, but his game of cards with Rock had proven to be interesting indeed.

Rock's luck with fighting on the field apparently held no weight in other areas of his life – he was so bad it was actually funny. Forte had set himself up to cheat if need be, but he hadn't had to do it once, the cards under his knee long since forgotten. He mused that next time he would have to play for money. Rock made it so easy for him.

"Huh. I really thought I had you there." Rock sighed, tossing his cards over to Forte for shuffling, and Forte was almost sure he meant it, too. The fact that he was actually trying to win made it even funnier, and he laughed in spite of himself. How was it possible for someone to be this bad at something as easy as blackjack?

Maybe we should switch to something else, like Go Fish." he offered, still grinning a little. Who would have ever thought he would one day be sitting in Rock's bedroom, kicking his ass mercilessly at a game of cards and laughing? He certainly hadn't.

"Oh, please don't." Rock said quickly, "I'm dreadful at that game." That caused Forte to laugh harder, and the older boy chuckled with him, happy to see some improvement in Forte's mood. "I'm actually pretty good at most games, even video games. If Wily challenged me to a game of Tetris instead of sending robot masters after me, the world would have been his a long, long time ago." Forte fell silent at that, laughter dying in his chest, and a jaded look fell over his face. Rock felt a stab of guilt at mentioning Wily in front of him after what he'd been thought. He tried to apologize quickly. "I'm-"

"I fucking hate Tetris." Forte said sourly, and they stared at each other for a few seconds before they both started laughing again. The general atmosphere lightened more after that, but Rock could tell that something had changed in Forte after he'd mentioned Wily's name.

He let Forte alone, however, sensing that it just wasn't the time to ask him what was wrong. He felt something like appreciation coming from Forte. He was good at guarding his thoughts from Rock, but his eyes still gave him away when he had something thrown at him out of left field.

He suddenly wanted to get to know Forte more than ever, and help rid the younger boy of the pain in his eyes for good. He didn't want Forte to dislike him, he wanted to be a real friend to him this time. "Want to go to the arcade tomorrow?" he asked suddenly, not really expecting much of an answer after what had happened.

Forte looked up from the cards he was shuffling, smiling a little though it looked more like a grimace than anything. "No cash, sorry." He shrugged indifferently, Forte couldn't remember ever having much money on him before. He spent so much time locked up in the fortress that he never had time to spend it anyway. He returned to the deck quietly, shuffling expertly.

Rock would have offered him money if he thought for even a second Forte would take it, but he knew Forte was too prideful for that and didn't even bother. "We can play games here instead. That's free..." Forte nodded in agreement to that, and he flopped back on his pillow lazily, glad he was going to get the chance to hang out with him again the following day. He'd been so bored lately…

An uncomfortable silence fell between them and he continued more for the sake of filling it than anything. "You know, I help dad out in the lab sometimes, and he pays me for it. That's how I get my money. He's always looking for a hand with something, especially now that he's getting older."

Forte lay back on the other side of the bed, so Rock could stretch his legs out., and rolled his eyes. "Now that was just stupid. Don't you remember what happened the last time I had access to Tom's laboratory and all the important files he kept in it?"

Rock nodded slightly. "Of course I do, but things are different now. You should ask him, then we can go to the arcade, and maybe to the batting cages or something sometime. I'm pretty good at soccer." He shifted onto his side so he could stare at him, and Forte quickly caved under Rock's scrutinizing gaze. He knew Forte was trying to avoid having to go talk to Dr. Light about it.

"Alright, alright. I'll ask him in the morning. Now turn the damned movie off, it sucks." He paused for a moment, as if contemplating something, then added. "If you stop bugging me, I'll show you a new card game." He ignored the offended look Rock gave him at being told he was being obnoxious, and sighed in relief when the movie was turned off. Rock was staring at him expectantly.

"What's it called?" he asked finally, when Forte offered no explanation.

"Fifty-two card pick up. Want to try it?" No way was Rock going to fall for it, of course. It was the oldest trick in the book, and the Light bot had two older siblings, but still, he couldn't resist. It was like an unspoken rule of card-play. You had to ask the question. So of course he found himself mildly shocked when Rock answered. Apparently Rock had nicer siblings than he'd thought.

"Okay, how's it played?"

Rock stared at Forte with a bewildered smile as fifty-two cards suddenly rained from Forte's outstretched hand onto the blankets, meaning of the game not yet occurring to him.

"Okay, now pick them up."


	10. Part 1: Starting Over

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: Guh. .-. Sorry guys, I'm late again. I don't really have an excuse, other than I added a few things to this chap. .-. In all honesty though, I've lost track of the day I was updating on. It's especially deplorable since I've got most of the first book to this finished. _;;; *sigh* Anyway, hope you enjoy it anyway, stuck up a long chapter since it took so long.

*sigh* Trying to work on more ficcage to get up here since I have some ideas, but I'm just so damned tired all the time. Between my job, and some medical stuff I've been going through for… too long now, I just can't force myself to sit down and just write like I used to. Maybe when I've got some more energy.

Anyway, have fun with the chap, after this chapter things start to get heavy and more engaging. Please read and review, they motivate me and I really like hearing what people think.

"_To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved."_

_~ George MacDonald_

_**Chapter Ten – Starting Over**_

Dr. Albert Wily stood, rubbing his back idly and frowning to himself. His joints ached something fierce, but he was finally starting to see some progress in his work. His face formed a twisted grin as he peered down at his creation at hand. Tall, blonde, beautiful… and programmed to release a virus so horrible, it was almost unimaginable to a sane person. Luckily for Wily he was anything but sane. The only thing bothering him about his creation was that he wouldn't live to see it in action. No, time had taken care of _that_, it seemed.

His eyes shifted down to his hands, making a slight grimace of disgust. They were withered and arthritic, but he still found use for them. He had to work fast, however. With every week, it seemed harder and harder to pick up a wrench now. When he'd gone down to punish Forte, he had still been able to put in a six hour day. Now, he was lucky to get away with two hours of solid work. In only four months. He could get help, lots of it, but he didn't trust any of the robot masters, they were too basic for his tastes. Forte could have helped him, but the traitor had gone AWOL.

That had caught him off guard. In all honesty, he hadn't planned on Forte going anywhere, not after the lesson he'd taught him. In his shocked state, he'd almost forgotten to be angry about it. Almost. After an hour or two of careful contemplation, however, he decided to find Forte and bring him down, for two main reasons. The first was rather obvious. Forte knew a lot about the ongoing events at the fortress, knew a lot of passwords –changed, all changed, the old man assured himself with. There was almost a limitless supply of information that could be turned over to the wrong hands now that he'd left. The other reason…

The other reason. He leaned back, face forming into something more like a snarl than a grin. He'd left. With Gospel, no less. Probably to try and get him fixed, and get as far away as possible. And no one… _no one_ escaped him. If the robot masters decided to do the same… things could get ugly. He needed them now to provide a distraction for anyone who got too close. That was why he had to have the violet haired boy back. He felt the need to recapture him, and make an example of him for that sole reason, pretence or no pretence. Forte was his, would always _be_ his, and he was going to remind him of that if it was the last thing he ever did.

He reached down, gripping the still arm of his final creation, using it both to support and centre himself. He'd take care of things, he was sure of that. He'd worked too hard for things to come unravelled so close to the end. Forte couldn't have gone too far, and eventually he was going to make a mistake.

"Just ask already, stupid..." Forte muttered to himself, pacing in front of the lab quietly. He couldn't believe that _this_ was the one thing he couldn't bring himself to do. After everything he had said and done in the past four months – had it really been that long? Time didn't drag here – from the incident with Wily, to trying to wrap his mind around what happened to gospel, to the past months of crazy fun he'd been having with Rock. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

In the end, they'd gone to the arcade, even though Forte had no money, with Rock treating every time. Forte had been embarrassed at first, but Rock simply hadn't taken "no" for an answer. He'd dragged him down there on the pretence that they were going to a different park, Forte with a hat shoved down on his head, embarrassed of the indigo stripes down his face that now seemed more like an identifying scar than anything else. He wondered if this was how people branded with the "M" had once felt.

He'd kept his face down to ignore any stares he might get, and had walked right into Rock when the boy had stopped suddenly in front of the arcade. When he'd looked up he realized where he was, but before a frown could even reach his mouth, Rock was already dragging him over to the racing games. He'd given in eventually, and had accepted Rock's money with a slightly flushed face and a tight jaw.

The last time they had gone, three days ago, he had gone to get Rock a drink after he'd asked, and when he returned, he had caught Rock staring at a poster quietly. He handed the drink over to the shorter boy, and had read over his shoulder while he was depressed, curious as to what he was looking at.

The poster was for a theatrical play of some kind, playing in the local theatre, some kind of musical. But the ticket prices were really steep, and even though Rock never mentioned a single word to him, Forte knew the older boy didn't have the money to go because Rock had spent it all on _him_. He'd wanted to go, but he couldn't. And Forte felt horrible about it.

He'd gone home unsure of what to do, and feeling rather consumed by guilt. He'd thought about how to get quick cash for hours and he'd only really come up with one method, despite all the thinking he'd done. He could steal that much easily, probably just by a few quick pick-pocketing endeavours, but he knew that using stolen money to get the tickets would only upset Rock, and he hadn't dared. Back to the drawing board.

So here he as, in his current situation. There was only one way to legally get that kind of money, and he sighed audibly, thinking of how humbling a situation this was going to become. He really hoped Tom wasn't going to rub it in, that would make it almost unbearable. It was already so humiliating without that.

He cursed himself inwardly, then muttered aloud. "Just do it, damnit...!" God, he hated asking for help, it was just so-

"Do what?" Forte started so badly that his feet nearly left the ground, then turned sharply, almost upending the mug of coffee clasped in Dr. Light's hand, who moved his arm back just in time to avoid a collision and the inevitable mess. "Sorry, Forte, I didn't mean to startle you." Whatever he was cursing himself on, it must have had him completely distracted for him to have not heard him at all. He was anything but light on his feet, after all.

He stepped past him into his lab, beckoning for Forte to join him. "Did you need something from here? I don't keep my door locked, you don't need to-"

Forte bit his lip, drew a deep breath, and bowed his head deeply, clasping his hands in front of his face. Oh great, now he was going from asking to grovelling. The day was starting to look a little bleak. "Please let me work for you for awhile!" He groaned, scolding himself internally, then looked up at Light, who gave him a slight pat on the head, a mixture of utter confusion and amusement on his face simultaneously. This just kept getting better. "Look, I'm flat broke, and there's this... thing, and-"

Dr. Light nodded a little, surprised Forte didn't just steal the money. "And you wanted to earn a little extra spending money. That should be fine, I could always use an extra hand. When is this "thing"?" He reached down, straightening Forte out, and handed him some paperwork to sort out. "Believe me, you'll never have to beg for a little work to do around here. It's something that's never in short supply these days."

Forte stared at him gratefully and took the papers, not sure how exactly to express gratitude – both for helping him and for trusting him around any of his work again. He settled with a simple "Thank you, Tom." He sighed heavily, relieved he didn't ask Forte what the money was for. The theatre wasn't exactly to his taste, and he didn't want the old man to know the effect Rock was having on him.

It was like admitting that Rock was right, had been right, and always would be right, and if there was one thing he hated, it was being wrong. "It's tomorrow night, and a lot of money, but I can earn it by then." he insisted, wishing he hadn't taken so damned long to just ask the favour. "Even if I have to work all night."

Light nodded slowly, thinking it over. "Alright. I think I can keep you busy until then. I want you to get some sleep, though. All you have to do is go through those and match this number, alright? After that, we'll find something else for you to do." He smiled, pointing to some kind of a reference number, then set back to work quietly.

Forte began sorting quietly without complaint, even when Thomas occasionally dropped a new stack off by him. It became rather obvious as the hours ran on and the sun left the sky that Dr. Light had a hell of a lot of paper. He wasn't sure what it was for, but he imagined the old man must have some kind of a personal vendetta against trees. He decided to ask the old man after he was done helping out, in case the question irritated him. He skipped dinner when the offer was made both times, and only gave Rock a small wink when he tried to find out what the taller boy was up to, sending him back out.

He looked up finally, with a slight wince. His eyes burned something fierce, and the one that had been damaged was sending a rather insistent stabbing pain up the side of his face. He rubbed at it gently, wincing more, then sighed and looked over at the clock on the wall. It was almost three in the morning. He decided to get some rest for a little while, getting up, and then something caught his eye.

He stared at the mass under a sheet, sitting on a lab table on the other side of the room near Tom's workbench. Suddenly, he was filled with a pain so deep that even his exhaustion couldn't ease it, and he certainly hadn't been prepared for it. Gospel. He felt a terrible ache, and his chest suddenly contracted, feeling tight. He hadn't thought about Gospel in two days. He had been so busy having fun with Rock that the wolf hadn't even crossed his mind. He threw his chair aside suddenly, and got up quickly, going over to the sheet and resting his cheek on the material, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, boy." he murmured.

He slid his slippers off, and climbed up onto the table with the sheeted mass. He really was selfish. He'd been out having fun with Rock, and sleeping all cozy and safe, after eating all those meals, while poor Gospel couldn't do any of that. He sighed idly. No... it wasn't healthy to think like that, he knew that much now. It was Wily. Wily killed Gospel, not him. Wily impaled him, tore out his innards, and mutilated the wolf, not him. Still, he could stay down here and sleep with his companion. He owed Gospel at least that much, and his mind told him that at least that much as still okay, still healthy.

Still right.

He curled up tighter on the lab table, a position that had once been a second nature to him, and now felt foreign, alien. What was happening to him? He felt different, milder, somehow. Tame. He wondered vaguely if he was losing himself, then decided that he wasn't, not exactly. Not losing himself, per se. He was adapting, and changing to fit his new life. He thought he could accept that answer, what choice did he really have? Still... He wouldn't lose this piece of himself, of that much he was determined. Gospel was as much a part of him as his arm, or his leg.

He lay next to the still form of Gospel, and tried to sleep, but all he felt was a bitter emptiness. He felt more like he was lying near a heap of scrap metal, than his support unit. He almost cried again, but forced it back. He was done crying for now. He hardly slept that night, something he found particularly irritating after resting so well next to Rock for so long.

He awoke early, despite how late he had fallen asleep, cursing himself for being unable to sleep better. Another nightmare. His body was slick with sweat, and he feared he may have been making a lot of noise, his throat felt strained and tight. He let his legs swing out and over the edge, glancing around the room.

"Good morning, Forte." It was Thomas, he was working on something at his workbench, but his head was turned toward the robot, and there was a notable look of concern on his face. Forte had been whimpering lowly in his sleep since he had slipped down to work more on Gospel. He sounded a lot like a beaten puppy he had come across once when he had been walking through a bad area of town in his younger years.

The nightmare he had been having must have been bad, Forte had even yelled out incoherently in his sleep a few times, startling him rather badly. He had a pretty good idea what the boy had been dreaming about, too. Wily really was a sick man.

Forte had made a remarkably fast recovery once Light had talked to him, surprisingly fast, all things considered. The only area where Forte seemed to have not made any improvement – he'd actually gotten worse – was in this sudden wave of nightmares. Tom had heard him sometimes, awhile back, when Forte had still been sleeping on the couch.

When his arthritis bothered him late at night, he sometimes came down for his pills. With the seasons changing, he'd been down there quite a bit, unfortunately, and had heard Forte on several occasions. In the beginning, he would peek his head in to make sure it wasn't anything more pressing than just a bad dream, but Forte had been just lying there, face a calm mask, fast asleep. It was wrong.

After awhile, he'd begun to avoid doing so as much as possible. It wasn't polite to walk in and just stare at the boy as he slept, and Forte wouldn't be very happy if he awoke to find the old man there anywhere near him. Too many bad memories. He had been surprised when Forte had started sleeping upstairs with Rock. Still, as much as it had shocked him, he'd never questioned it, because as much as it shamed him to say it, he was freaked out by the boy.

Forte never moved an inch, never knotted his eyebrows, nothing, no matter how violent the nightmare was, and it disturbed him. When the bogeyman caught up with him in his dreams, he was thrown somewhere else, somewhere unreachable. He'd tried once or twice to wake him up, but it was to no avail, he had to play his dream out in his head.

He felt foolish for letting something so small unnerve him that much, but there was something so wrong about Forte's waking self that it made his hair stand on end. He wasn't sure if it was just something left out while Wily programmed his robot, or if it was a learned behaviour, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Forte still hadn't responded, he was instead turned, staring at Gospel, with apparent confusion on his face. It cleared up finally, and he gave the older man a slight nod, avoiding his gaze. He felt a burning shame, realizing that Tom had probably been sitting there listening to him for who knew how long. He cursed himself inwardly for being such a coward, and straightened himself out quickly. "You're up early." The clock on the wall stated it was just past six-forty in the morning. He couldn't have slept more than a few hours, and he was feeling it.

Light turned back to his work, sensing he was making Forte uncomfortable. "Early to bed, early to rise. You should get something to eat if you're planning to come back here. Your energy conversion system has been over-utilized for awhile now, you're going to damage yourself if you keep pushing yourself like this." Especially without Gospel to balance your main system out, he'd wanted to add, but despite the progress Forte had been making, he wasn't ready to jump that hurdle yet. Forte nodded agreeably enough, and slipped off into the kitchen to find himself something to eat.

Setting his pencil down and rolling the blueprint up, he cast a worried glance in the direction of the door. Gospel's current body had proven to be completely destroyed, no matter how many angles the old man had tried. At first he had been ready to just let it alone, and chalk up his losses. In fact, he had been preparing himself to deliver the news to Forte, when another idea had begun to work its way around in his head. Rock had given it to him, albeit unintentionally.

He'd originally wanted to make an entirely new support unit for Forte, but Rock had insisted that it had to be Gospel, that if he tried to use a replacement that Forte would forcibly reject it. It had to be Gospel.. but maybe it didn't have to be the same Gospel, per se. Maybe it didn't have to end there at all. Now, as he sat playing with the idea idly, he found himself facing a lot of the same questions he had asked himself as he stood making Rock, and had even voiced to Albert Wily without avail before his colleague had broken off their partnership and gone off on his first tirade.

Was he going too far? Did he really understand what he was getting into? Was he going to do more damage than good? Oh, he had an idea alright. But maybe it would be better for all parties involved, especially Gospel, if he just revoked it, and really did chalk up his losses. Still... He thought back to that night, to his conversation with Forte, not the one he saw now, mending his traumatized state, but the broken Forte and realized he couldn't _not_ do it. Because, if things would have worked out and he didn't do it, he would never forgive himself for it.

Not to mention- oh, but it was so _arrogant_, such a prime example of human nature, so completely self loving – forte needed his help. He needed what the old man wanted to give him, nothing else was ever going to truly replace in Wily's boy's mind. He frowned, thinking on that idly. No, that wasn't right either, was it? Maybe... Or maybe he just wanted to play god one more time. It was at times like this that he agreed with the radicals that maybe the world really was better off without scientists.

Forte returned with a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth, and Thomas fought his inner battle all morning and well into the afternoon, his mind on both sides of the ring, until he finally couldn't stand it anymore. Needing time to reflect on this by himself, he sent Forte off with the money he needed, along with a small bonus. He'd earned it after all. After finishing with the paperwork, Forte had done a surprisingly thorough job of cleaning, and the lab was almost unrecognizable, compared to what it had once been. Even Roll didn't dare clean up in here.

He thought about it for another hour, cursing himself with every new point in favour of what he felt he had to do. Finally, he reached into his desk drawer, and pulled the blueprint back out, then started preparing a list of equipment he would need. Back to playing god...


	11. Part 1: For Better or Worse

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: Okay! Things finally start picking up again in this chap. This is actually two chapters, but I didn't want to break it up and make you wait longer, so I stuck them both in together, subsequently making this a bit of a long chapter. ._.;

I just wanted to really thank everyone who's been dropping reviews, and all the nice people who let me know that there are actually a lot more readers than I thought XD I'm very flattered. Thank you Popcorn Oracle, for the very massive, in depth review, it really made my day. 3

Anon: What is your favourite fic? I've actually been looking for something to read, I'd like to check the fic out XD

Dracozombie: Actually, I do remember you from DA. How have you been?

Moonlight Silver: I can assure you safely that Light is not going to turn Gospel into X XD;;; that would just be creepy. Oh, and the sibling thing you mentioned was because I wasn't paying attention when I edited this XD;;

Anyway, thanks again, please keep up with the reviews guys! On with the story. .-.

P.S This version is censored, uncensored version is available on , or you can e-mail, PM, or leave a review for me.

_Get not your friends by bare compliments, but by giving them sensible tokens of your love. _

_ ~Socrates_

_**Chapter Eleven – For Better or Worse**_

The sun was hot on their faces as Forte led Rock through the downtown district toward the theatre. Summer was in full tilt now, and even then, at just past seven in the evening it was still hot out. Forte sighed, looking forward to the sun setting with a petulant glare. The heat made him tired and lazy, and reminded him harshly of the lack of sleep he'd had as of late. He stepped wide, to avoid walking into a hydrant, then winced as Rock hit it head on, knee jarring into a bolt rather hard. Oops. He'd forgotten about the Light bot again. That couldn't have felt very nice.

Rock turned his face slightly to the left of the taller boy and frowned. "Ouch! Forte, you're really bad at this game!" He almost walked off the edge of the curb and grabbed onto his arm tightly, groaning audibly.

Forte imagined there was an angry gaze to go along with it under the blindfold he'd stuffed on Rock's head a block or so back. Since then, he'd run Rock into a telephone pole, a tree branch, and now the fire hydrant. He could only hope that the bruises Rock was sure to get from being walked full pace into miscellaneous objects wouldn't appear until tomorrow.

Forte couldn't help but feel a little amused at that. Why Rock thought he would be good at a game named "Trust" was beyond him. Given his track record it could hardly come as a surprise. He walked him across the street cautiously, and sighed. "Rock, you should know this isn't my strong point. I'm doing my best here!"

Rock sighed dramatically, holding in a reprimand for the time being, and nearly walked into a businessman, complete with briefcase and tie. Forte steered him out of the way at the last second, and it was such a close call that the tie brushed lightly against Rock's cheek. He frowned again at the almost phantom touch. "I felt that."

Forte waved him off impatiently. Rock didn't see it, but that was probably for the best. "Right, right. Details. I'll get you there in one piece, promise. Just be a little more patient, or you'll ruin the surprise. We're almost there, then you can take it off, alright?" He steered Rock through the crowd with more care, he really was trying, and he was pretty sure Rock would stop being so good-natured about his little head on collisions if he kept on having them.

Rock grinned at him cutely, going where Forte led him passively and trying to hide his mounting excitement. "For better or worse, right?" He made a small arc as Forte turned him and came to a sharp stop in front of wherever they had been headed. It was quieter here, they must have turned off the sidewalk and stopped near an entrance to somewhere.

"For better or worse. Hopefully for the former." Forte crouched down, back to Rock, so his back pressed lightly against the boy. "Now get on, I'll probably kill you if I try to lead you up the stairs." Rock obliged, climbing on the taller boy's back, and hugged tight as Forte went up the winding steps of the theatre, carrying him on his back.

Forte looked around slowly as they went, smugly confident that Rock had no idea whatsoever where they were. In fact, he was almost sure of it. Rock had never had much of a poker face, and had never been very good at hiding how he felt. He was the proverbial open book, and right now he looked utterly clueless. His excitement was likely due more to curiosity than anything.

He had managed to snag them balcony seats with the extra money Light had given him. Unsurprisingly – at least to him – the sales on the performance were low, and they had already dropped the prices substantially by time Forte had gone to pick them up earlier that afternoon. Keeping Rock from following him to the ticket booth had proven to be the hardest part. Rock was apt to follow Forte anywhere lately, and he couldn't slip off without a good excuse. However, a few small white lies later and he'd had them stuffed in his back pocket. Now he could consider himself financially square with the older robot, and he sighed with relief.

He stepped into their balcony and set Rock down carefully, slipping the blindfold off. "Well? Tell me I'm not cool." He leaned back on the balcony railing, grinning a little despite himself, when he noted two things. The first, as Rock's face lit up with delight, was that the older boy wasn't that bad after all, and that he'd actually come to like him over the past few weeks. Maybe a little more than he should. The other was that Rock was a rather strong hugger, and that he probably shouldn't have chosen the railing as his leaning post.

He grunted as the shorter boy's weight collided with him, sure he managed not to tumble over the side out of sheer dumb luck. Better for the people below them than him, really, he was pretty damned heavy. "I take it you like it, then?" He couldn't wipe the smirk off his face for anything now, it was plastered there, come what may.

"Oh, Forte! I…I…" Rock lilted, struggling for something to say. "How did you _know_? This… You _are_ cool! You're so cool!" He squealed throwing his arms around him tighter, and practically bounced, planting a kiss firmly on his lips.

Forte stared at the older boy blankly. Oookay… he had been right there on the same page as Rock up until being called cool. That he could have predicted, and he really was cool. He hadn't, however, planned on being kissed. Nope. That hadn't been part of the game plan. He stared at Rock, unsure of what to say. He thought well enough of the boy, but he needed to mull over whether or not kissing was acceptable behaviour for awhile before touching that one with a twenty foot pole.

"Easy there, or you'll break me all over again." He gave Rock a firm pat on the head, ignoring what happened for the time being, it would give him something to pour over while he pretended to watch the stupid play. That was probably all the time he needed, he wasn't much of a long term thinker. Part of him had already made up its mind about the matter, but it was just so… _awkward_. This was definitely not something to rush into, so he would have to try his best not to.

Rock grinned back at him, looking very grateful, deep colour rising high on his cheeks as he blushed fiercely. "Sorry, sometimes I just get so excited that I can't control myself!" He thought that over for a second, then blushed more. "I mean… Oh, I don't even know what I mean! This is so exciting! I've always wanted to come here, but it's so expensive. Is that why you worked so much for my father?"

He was changing the subject. Forte mused on that for a moment or two, then decided to let him. It was probably better for them both, for now at least. So apparently Rock realized how delicate the situation was too. That was a good thing, they were both keyed up and things could easily slip out of control.

"Yeah." He muttered lamely, then added, "I saw you looking at that poster in the arcade. You know, by the racing simulator you like so damned much." The lights were starting to dim and he broke from Rock, taking his seat and glancing at his face as the shadow hid most of it. "Better sit down or you're going to miss the show."

Rock sat next to him deftly and smiled at him, eyes especially bright with excitement. In the faded light, they reminded him of a pair of sapphires. He settled back in his chair finally when the play started and a tall, blonde woman stepped on centre stage. Forte found he momentarily liked plays as she pulled her arms up over her head, breasts heaving and threatening to come over the top of the low cut dress she was costumed in. Then she opened her mouth and he took it all back.

Opera. It just had to be opera.

He sunk back in his chair, draped over it more than sitting in it, so the back of his head rested against the top of the theatre seat. He stayed that way for awhile, drowning out the noise with deep reflective thought as his mind tried to get a firm grasp on what had just happened.

Did Rock have any idea of what the implications of kissing him like that had been?

He knew Rock was naïve at times, but something told him the boy knew exactly what it meant, and more importantly, he knew what he was doing when he did it. Maybe it was the apologetic way he kept looking at the taller robot afterwards, or the bright blush marking his cheeks even now. Whatever it was, he knew Rock was in no way oblivious to what he had just done. His embarrassment may actually have been from the way Forte had skirted around the issue.

That solved, he turned to the other matter at hand – how did he feel about it?

That… was a much trickier question. He found he really didn't mind as much as he thought he would. A few months prior, he likely would have been disgusted at the thought, and even more likely would have used it to exploit Rock in some way. But those days were in the past, and he had to accept that things had changed. They had changed, and he now couldn't go back to the way things had been before, no matter how badly he wanted them to. It was a permanent change.

That brought him to the last major thing bothering him. Just how much had they changed?

Finding out he actually enjoyed Rock's company and was starting to think of him as a friend had been shocking enough, he wasn't sure he was ready for another surprise like this. He wasn't sure how ready he was to admit that he'd _noticed_ Rock lately, that he'd even caught himself checking him out one day earlier this week, when he'd been half dressed and bent over his drawer, looking for a shirt. Still…

He slid down his chair further. Was there really any point in denying it? He had developed some sort of feelings for Rock, he wasn't sure if they were of the romantic flavour or not, but they were definitely of the physical attraction assortment. Something had changed, and those feelings could turn to something else very soon, develop into something more… intimate.

This was where the problem end of how badly things had changed surfaced. Did he really want to miss the boat on this one? He wasn't good with emotions, especially something like this, but he'd have to be pretty damned stupid to see that this could be a very Good Thing. This might be his last chance to fill that void in him that had formed since he'd lost Gospel. Did he want to lose that chance all because he didn't have the balls to just go with it?

On the other hand, he could also be making a very Big Mistake, possibly the most important one of his life. Did he want to jump on that same boat and watch it capsize a month or two down the road? Where would he be then? Homeless. Friendless. Alone. Vulnerable. He didn't want any of those. He missed Gospel a lot… for all he knew, this could just be a by product of that sense of loss he was feeling. Hell, he didn't know, he wasn't a bloody psychologist, and he wasn't about to go to Tom about it. That would be awkward.

He let out a slow sigh. Why was he even worrying about it? Here he was, worrying about how he might feel about Rock in the future and trying to forecast their potential relationship when he wasn't even sure _what_ he actually felt yet. That was typical of him. He knew what he felt, at least to a degree, but he just hadn't given any real thought to it. He had been so wrapped up in the daily coming and goings that he hadn't allowed himself the chance to really sit and think about where he sat with Rock. At least, not until now.

Now that he was giving himself the chance, he decided it really wasn't surprising that he felt the way he did. And even less surprising that Rock had developed similar feelings in return. They had been hanging around each other a lot, and Rock was so clearly gay that a legally blind person could spot it. He wondered how rejected Rock felt after his reaction. He hadn't handled that very well, thinking back on it. In fact, he had all but run away from the situation. He cursed himself bitterly for being so callus.

He slid further, eyes dangerously close to slipping shut and shipping him off to dreamland, and he pushed off the ground with his feet before he fell right out of his chair, sitting up straight and looking over at Rock curiously. He hadn't said a word since the play had started, he must be really into this crap to-

But he wasn't. Rock was staring back at him, looking rather remorseful. He wondered how long Rock had been looking like that for. He gave him a slight smile and shrugged sheepishly, hunting for the right thing to say. Not that there was such a thing for him. Maybe something that wasn't the wrong thing to say. "Sorry, opera's not my thing. Too hard on my ears."

That seemed to lighten the mood, and they both visibly relaxed a little at that. He'd meant it as a joke, but it wasn't far from the truth. He thought his head would be blown clear off his shoulders if the broad downstairs didn't stop her yowling sometime soon. He gave a half grin, and only really got a mildly surprised look out of Rock, who seemed to have been doing a little thinking of his own, and had banished Forte out of his sight when he'd gotten lost in his thoughts.

"At least you didn't fall asleep." Rock finally replied with, giving him a faint smile. "I didn't know this was an opera when I looked at the flyer. I just thought it was a musical." He leaned in and talked to Forte over the singing for awhile, small talk. How much he liked musicals, ones he'd seen, how he had once conned Blues into bringing him to see one on the pretence that it was a rock concert, things like that. It went on for a little longer, until the conversation finally ran dry and his face shifted to something more serious.

"I'm sorry, Forte." He muttered, diverting his eyes and looking shamefaced. "I shouldn't have done that." He gave him a small, apologetic smile. "I-I wasn't thinking. I just got really excited, and I didn't stop to think of the consequences of just…" He searched for a way to end his statement that wouldn't sour things between them.

"Kissing me?" Forte offered. He thought about it for a second, not sure if this was the place to discuss their brief encounter. Ah, what the hell. "Yeah, you caught me a little off-guard with that one." He smiled a little. "It wasn't that bad, though. You need to work a little on how to initiate it, though. I think your bear hug technique needs a little less flare to it, most people don't go for nearly being knocked off the balcony. I don't mind so much, though, I'm a little more durable." He rapped his knuckles on his chest lightly as if to prove his point.

Rock flushed a much darker red, looking absolutely mortified. "I'm sorry! You're not going to rub it in, are you?" He groaned lightly in embarrassment at the way he had executed their first kiss, then bit his lip suddenly as another thought no doubt crossed his mind. "You're not going to tell my father, are you?" He frowned and released his lip pursing them instead, worried.

Forte shook his head a little. Who was he kidding? His mind had been made up before he even knew of the situation. He slid forward in his seat, reaching over and resting a hand on Rock's shoulder "Nah, I'm not going to tell your father, you can relax. I am, however, going to kiss you back, and show you how to do it right." He rest a hand on the back of Rock's head and drew him close, leaning in. Rock went without a fight, and Forte pulled him into a slow, easy first kiss.

Rock froze a little at first, he hadn't expected that, and when it came down to it, he knew he was doing the right thing. He hadn't prepared for this, hadn't been kissed in a long time, but he fell back into it so fast that he doubted Forte ever noticed. It was a pleasant surprise, and after a few seconds of frozen panic, he relaxed a little and just followed Forte's lead. The singing and instruments seemed to fade to some strange, faraway realm, the noise was now meaningless to him, and it was only them.

Forte moaned into Rock's mouth quietly, sliding back into his chair slowly as he pulled Rock out of his seat and into his lap. Rock's knees rested on the chair, on either side of his thighs, and the position left him close enough that the Wily bot could feel the heat of his groin, enticingly close. He let his hands slide up the back of Rock's shirt until they found satisfactory resting places, and he was able to knead the flesh there. He pulled the shorter boy's body tight against his own with a complacent groan, finding he was enjoying himself.

Rock wasn't using a lot of tongue, it was a clean, sweet kiss, lacking that frenzied sloppy feeling he associated with a good, hard make-out session, but it didn't stop him from tenting in his pants. That might have something to do with the way Rock was moving against him in an attempt to settle closer on his legs and prevent sliding off the taller boy's lap. It was just enough to tease him into a rather frustrated state.

He wondered idly what those firm thighs compressing his hips would feel like naked against him, smooth and soft, creamy and flawless, and he lifted Rock's weight against him, bodies colliding harder. No chance of Rock falling out of his lap now. His pants were unbearably tight now, his mind was churning with a kaleidoscope of thoughts as he struggled with out of control lust.

He broke the kiss, trailing his tongue across Rock's jaw, pulling a delicate ear into his mouth and biting it gently. He ran his tongue along the outer ridge, tracing it down to the lobe, then pulled it between his lips, biting it gently and bathing it. Rock let out a small cry. The older boy's cries were drowned out by that damned music and muted by the passion of the moment.

Forte's breath hitched sharply, and he jumped a little. His keys jingled against the change in his pocket in protest as he jerked forward, slightly startled, and bit Rock's lip. The music alone should have drowned it out, but somehow he still heard it above the noise of the opera woman's singing, and through the veil of pleasure he was lost in. Maybe he had even imagined it, it was hard to say, but whatever it had been, it was enough to shake him out of his stupor.

The memory hit him like a god damned car wreck. Lying still to avoid making the pain worse, trying to ignore the horrible cramping in his stomach and that sharp stabbing feeling from behind, and the old man, touching him. The sound of his belt buckle jingling merrily the entire time, a deceivingly cheery noise.

He returned to himself, realizing he had been staring at the ceiling, transfixed. Rock was staring at him with a troubled, jaded expression, having sensed something was seriously wrong. Unbeknownst to him, Forte's colour had fallen from flushed to as white as a sheet in less than a moment. Now he was pallid, eyes too bright, and had broke into a cold sweat.

The moment was gone so fast, it was almost as though it had never been there. He felt ill, so incredibly sick, and his stomach burned with an uncomfortable ache. It was a familiar ache, similar to what he had felt a few months prior, and he knew he was going to start retching. He fought back audibly gagging as hard as he could, he didn't want Rock to know.

He jumped to his feet quickly, sending Rock sprawling off his lap, and gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I, um… I need water. Besides, you're going to miss the show." He stumbled out quickly, leaving Rock to stare at his retreating back with a confused and hurt expression.

He made it down the first flight of stairs, then had to turn down the short hallway there, vomiting in the corner. He was reminded of all the vomiting he did that first day, so long ago now, then retched again at the memories. Finally, he forced himself to stop thinking about it. He stayed where he was, half standing, half sitting at an awkward crouch, until the wave of nausea passed. Then he got up slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and heading the rest of the way to the restroom, washing up and rinsing his mouth out slowly.

He stared at his face quietly. It was pale and haggard, splotchy in places from being sick, and there were dark patches around the indigo stripes down his face, from exhaustion. In short, he looked like shit. He had to fight what was happening to him. This wasn't him, he wasn't weak. The nightmares were one thing, he was hoping that eventually they would just fade out, but this… this was ruining him.

He was going to have to take care of this soon, before it wrecked him from the inside out. The problem was where to begin. Eventually, probably later tonight, as much as he wished he could put it off, he would have to think about what had just happened with Rock. He couldn't hide it forever, even he wasn't that stupid, but he planned to for as long as he could.

He could worry about telling Rock, and how fast it would destroy what had been slowly building between them later. Right now he had to focus on getting his legs to stop feeling like jelly, or he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. He sighed heavily and sat down on the counter near the sinks, resting the back of his head on the mirror.

It looked like he was going to be there awhile yet, at least until the colour returned to his face a little, grey didn't go very well on him, and he didn't want Rock suspicious. He had a feeling if Rock got suspicious, he was going to make Forte tell him everything, talk before he was ready to reopen that festering wound again. It was something he wasn't particularly inclined to do. So instead, he waited, hoping vainly that the situation would just go away, or fix itself.

Unfortunately, these things never do. He was in the bathroom for a long time before he was finally able to walk out without staggering into something or someone. It was just as well, opera really did suck.


	12. Part 1: The Truth

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: I'll probably become a little more scarce over the next little while. I'm picking up a part time job to couple my full time one ^^;;; *die* Having money to pay off my loan comes before ficcage sadly. ._.; I'm tired of no name food, washing my clothes in my bathtub, and giving myself crappy haircuts. Lol

Anyway, enjoy! ._.

_There are few nudities so objectionable as the naked truth. _

_ ~Agnes Repplier _

_**Chapter Twelve – The Truth**_

He arrived back at the balcony shortly after, looking considerably healthier. Rock had just gotten up to go look for him, worried after he hadn't returned in so long. When he saw Forte, he sat back down reluctantly, casting him a worried glance. Forte waved him off, taking his seat again and trying not to look ill. "Don't worry, it was nothing. Just an upset stomach." Rock looked more concerned at that.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, glancing at his pallid face and shaking hands doubtfully. "It doesn't look like it's nothing. Maybe you ate something your energy converter couldn't process." That didn't seem right, but he doubted he would get a straight answer out of Forte now. Whatever was bothering him would remain a secret until the younger boy was ready to talk about it.

Forte shook his head quickly, flashing him a false looking grin. "We don't need to go. I'm fine." He settled down again, but stayed considerably further away this time, staring hard at the stage below them. He didn't look at Rock again for the rest of the performance.

The opera finally ended – not a moment too soon, in Forte's opinion. He stood up, yawning widely, and arched his back out, stretching slowly and turning his neck from side to side slightly. It was more for show than anything, though. He wasn't feeling very tired anymore, in fact, he doubted sleep was going to catch him anytime soon. "Well, I'm beat. Did you like it?" He pat Rock on the head, who was still seated.

Rock got up after a few moments and smiled at him warmly, nodding a little. "I did. Thank you very much." He was staring at him analytically, sizing him up and trying to decide if Forte really was alright. He let up finally, hugging him quickly and grabbing his backpack. "I know you're tired, but do you want to get something to eat first? I'm starving. It's on me." He added quickly. "I want to thank you for treating me to this play."

Forte opened his mouth, hesitant. "I don't know, Rock." He thought uneasily that his meal might come right back up again, after the night he'd just had. However, Rock looked disappointed with his response, and he suddenly understood the situation, feeling bad.

The older boy was trying to make up for things, and find out where they stood, that was what his invitation was really about – setting boundaries. Or so he thought. "I guess I wouldn't mind some tea, my stomach's still a little harsh. You can get something, and if I feel up to it, I'll just pick off your plate." That seemed to smooth things over, and Rock's face brightened up again.

He grabbed Forte by the wrist eagerly, grinning again. "Great! You won't regret this, Forte. Come on, I know just the place!" He made his way down the stairs and out the door, Forte grudgingly in tow, and neither of them knew just how wrong that statement had been.

Forte steeped his tea idly, staring ahead blankly and glad for the quiet after all the racket in the theatre. There hadn't been much small talk between them, conversation had fallen into a deep, tolerable silence when they had gotten their order. Forte had appeased Rock by ordering some toast to go with his tea, and took a few bites after he set his tea bag on the edge of the saucer his cup rested on. Chamomile, good for the stomach. At least, it worked on humans. Couldn't hurt to try. In any case, it had a sweet taste and a relaxing aroma to it.

He tipped the cup forward, sipping from it idly. He thought about these things – flavours, scents, anything except what was really bothering him. The evasion tactic really seemed to work this time. His stomach accepted the lightly buttered bread without forcing it back out violently, and he was grateful. He really didn't want to vomit in the middle of the café, retching in the hallway of the opera had been embarrassing enough. He was nearly finished his first piece of toast when Rock spoke up suddenly, breaking into his thoughts.

"Forte?"

The taller boy glanced up at him, Rock's face looked tight and strained with worry, eyes meeting his searchingly. He went for his automatic response without even thinking about it. "I'm alri-"

"No." Rock cut him off, frowning. "No you're not. Something's wrong." Forte broke eye contact with him, returning to his tea. He knew it would come to this, he'd just hoped it wouldn't come so soon, not tonight. Rock reached over and rest a hand atop his before he lifted his teacup again. "I wish you would talk to me."

"Rock." He sighed, leaning back against the booth's cushioned backrest. He stared into his lap, frowning a little. "Rock, you don't want to know." And he didn't. Forte was certain of that.

Rock frowned as well, leaning forward. "Yes, I do." He grasped Forte's hand lightly, squeezing it with his own. "I'm worried about you, Forte. You're my friend now. You're a part of my family."

Forte sighed, running his fingers through his violet coloured hair, frustrated. "No, Rock. You only think you want to know. If I told you… If I told you, you'd wish I'd hadn't. It's that simple." He took another sip of his tea, working the idea of telling Rock over in his mind. It screamed bad idea. His lips formed a small, wry smile. Not just screamed, his mind was all but envisioning a twenty metre flashing sign with the word "Bad Idea" scripted across it in bold neon letters.

Rock leaned forward at the distant look on his friend's face. "Forte, please." He got up and moved to the taller boy's side of the booth, sliding in next to him and resting a hand on his shoulder. Forte flinched slightly. "I want to know. It won't change what I think of you. You need to talk about it. Was it something I did?" He was staring at him, face full of concern.

Forte stared at him incredulously. "Something you did? No." He sipped his tea idly to get that dry, cottony feel out of his mouth, the texture that formed in his mouth when he felt nervous and sometimes scared. The feeling as though his heart had dropped and his blood had frozen. He didn't want to think about this. His toast was long since forgotten. "No."

He chewed his lip, still feeling guilty for enjoying Rock like this – for enjoying Rock at all. Wily was a rotten bastard, but he _was_ his creator, and this went against everything he was intended for – everything he was built and programmed to be. It was the ultimate betrayal, almost sacrilegious.

As he sat, envisioning Wily, he pictured all the things he'd done to him. All the beatings, the verbal abuse, getting raped, losing Gospel… All the ways he had been wronged by the man. And he still felt a wave of guilt for letting Rock befriend him, god damnit. For letting the enemy play nice. Despite everything that had happened, it was still buried in him that deep. He hated Wily all the more for it. "No…" he repeated. "No, it's nothing you did. You've…" He trailed off, unsure of how to explain what exactly Rock had done without sounding like a fool.

"I've what?" Rock looked a good deal guilty himself, and he felt worse somehow. "It _was_ me, wasn't it?" He gave Forte a tight squeeze. "I should never-"

Forte hugged him back a little stiffly. Rock didn't deserve to feel guilty over it. He was the last person who should feel guilty. "It wasn't. You've… been very good to me." Rock was staring at him critically, trying to decide if he was being lied to most likely, and he sighed. No point in hiding it now anyway. He would just end up losing Rock's trust, and that would take them down a step. And he wasn't likely to start believing that it was nothing.

"Rock… things were really messed up when I left. I… I'm damaged goods." His face felt hot with shame, and when Rock's face drew a blank it didn't help. He clearly hadn't caught his meaning, probably assuming he meant physically, as his eyes wandered to the side of his face that had been nothing but a mangled, bloody mess. Well, this conversation was coming along fine.

"I've had thorns in my garden?" More staring, and he felt a slight rush of anger at being humiliated more than necessary. "Wily's a big pervert!" he tried again. Rock was nodding his head slowly, but it was obvious he wasn't quite comprehending the true meaning of what Forte was trying to say. Then he made it worse by trying to rationalize it.

"He was a pervert, so when he hit you, you left… right?" He thought about this a second more, then added, "Because he said something perverted to you?" He was confused, that didn't quite make sense. Forte didn't seem the type to be bothered by something dirty from an old man's mouth unless it was really, really bad, or… He frowned more, realization beginning to dawn on him. "Or… he did something perverted _to_ you."

Forte sighed softly at that, knowing he should feel irritated at Rock, but finding he surprisingly wasn't. He just didn't want to be having this conversation with him. "Something like that." He responded with vaguely, wondering if that was enough of an explanation for him and hoping it was. This was one thing that he had really hoped he would never have to discuss with Rock, he wondered if that was enough of an explanation for him.

"Something really bad." Rock muttered.

Apparently not. Forte sighed, avoiding his eye.

Rock reached over suddenly, clasping his hands over the one Forte wasn't gripping onto his cup with. "He did, didn't he? He did something really bad to you." He was giving the violet coloured robot a rather intense stare that Forte didn't have to look up to know was there. It was one of his special 'I'm going to find out and I'm going to save you' self serving looks that he still hated.

"Rock…" he tried again, but he already sounded tired, defeated. "He… yes, it was something like that. He tried not to hate that stare, not to hate him, because he really liked Rock, and this might damage things.

Rock thought on it for a few moments, then frowned a little. "did he… you know, kiss you?" He made a slight face of disgust at the thought of Forte being made to kiss those old, livery lips, shrouded in wrinkles, and began to wonder if maybe this was a conversation best left dead after all. Because even that wouldn't warrant something like running away from the old man. Not worth being blacklisted.

Forte grimaced slightly, pushing the cup away too. "I almost wish." He groaned quietly, in disgust. "No… I don't mean that, before you ask." He felt another hot stab of anger. Why was Rock asking him this? What business of his was it? And the bastard didn't even look sorry, just curious. His temper surged before he could control it, and he said possibly the worst thing possible. "He fucking raped me, why do you have to keep asking? I don't want to think about it, so _stop. asking. me_! "

There was a short lived moment of panic when he worried that Rock would ask him what rape meant, and then he really would lose control, but when he looked up, Rock was staring at him silently with a horrified expression. Well, that had certainly shut the little bastard up, hadn't it? He was too busy feeling bitter to have any guilt for the way he was talking to someone he supposedly loved.

Rock stared at the taller boy, mouth working slowly as he looked for something to say. He hadn't been expecting something like that, it was just too disturbing for his normal realm of thought. He tried desperately to wrap his mind around what Forte had just said, to try and keep things from spiralling out of control. How could Wily do that? It was the kind of thing you read about in the newspaper, but there it seemed distant, alien. Something that just couldn't happen to people you knew.

He knew he was completely unprepared to deal with something this gargantuan right now, and likely to say something wrong, but he had to say something. He couldn't just keep staring at Forte, he looked absolutely miserable. He had to say something before things became irreversible.

"Wh-what? Are you sure?" He knew it wasn't the right thing to say, but he was in such utter shock, it was the best thing he could come up with. That kind of thing wasn't supposed to happen to people like Forte, who wasn't afraid to speak up for himself and put others in their place. He was too strong willed, he wasn't meek, and he wasn't passive. So how could this have happened?

Forte looked up at him, giving him a malicious glare. "Am I sure? Are you calling me a liar? You think I'd lie about something like this? You finally harass me into telling you and you don't _believe_ me?" There was a deep, angry blush on his cheeks, and somewhere, under all that anger and hatred in his eyes, there was an incredible amount of hurt, masked but still there.

Rock was too stunned by the contemptuous look he received, coupled by Forte's vicious outcry to respond at first. He simply stared at the stranger standing in front of him, and wasn't sure how to deal with him. It wasn't the Forte he had gotten used to since he had come to stay with the Lights, but it wasn't the old Forte either. This was an entirely new breed of Forte he was staring at, a new version, unpredictable and frightening.

"No, I didn't mean it like that." He asserted defensively. "Of course I believe you, you're my friend. It's just that it's so… just…" He stopped himself before he finished, realizing he couldn't end that sentence. It would be the strike of the match that would burn down the tentative bridge they had built together. Disgusting. That was what he'd wanted to say. Vile, sickening… _wrong_. But none of those words were very fitting responses, especially with Forte so upset.

"Shocking." he substituted in their place quickly, but it was too late and the damage was done. Forte, despite his tendency to spend little time listening and more time acting on impulse, was unnervingly good at reading him, and he knew the violet haired boy had already seen in Rock's eyes what hadn't reached his lips. He'd read him like an open book left out on someone's desk.

Forte stood up, face an angry shade of red, and reached into his pocket, throwing a handful of change onto the table for a tip. "Are you satisfied now? I told you, Rock. I knew you wouldn't want to know. It's too ugly for your little self deluded vision of the world! It doesn't fit in there, does it?" He was breathing hard, nearly shaking with emotion, a mixture of rage, fear, shame, and countless others. "Let's go home."

"That's not true, Forte. I'm glad you told me." But Rock wasn't very sure he was. He knew how ugly the world could be, he knew this kind of thing happened every day, that part had been false. He'd been around long enough to know better. He wasn't sure he had wanted to know what went on at Wily's fortress behind closed doors after all, though. Perhaps there was some truth in that. Forte turned away from him, going up to the counter and setting his tea cup down on it. "It's getting late." he told Forte's back, taking that as their cue to let the conversation slip, and following the taller boy out the door.

The walk home was slow, bogged down with silence, and agonizingly thick with tension. They made the entire trek back without exchanging a single word between them, though Forte almost wished for some semblance of conversation. He wouldn't even mind Rock's long winded rambling, had almost come to enjoy it, and was sure it would carry some of the tension out with it.

But Rock didn't make a sound, and didn't seem to realize how badly Forte needed some background noise. Or maybe he wasn't sure what to say. In any case, he seemed tongue tied for once, and Forte wasn't about to be the one to start up conversation. Maybe he was too proud, or perhaps just too scared.

He walked ahead of Rock, who let him stay a good ten or so steps ahead of him. When he rounded the corner he found the lights off at the house, save the dim front porch light. He felt a small tightness in his stomach, certain that if the evening had ended differently, he might have been happy that everyone else was asleep. He might have spent a little time on the porch with him, and a lot of time in his bed.

He swatted at a few moths gathered around the halo of light in irritation, now in a considerably bad mood. Why didn't things ever go right for him? Every time he was sure his life was finally starting to fall into place, things went to shit. He had made so much ground here, and it seemed like everything was finally over, he was going to find a way to be happy. He'd been comfortable here… content. He'd never had that before.

He stepped to the side so Rock would unlock the door, and just wanted the night to be over with. How could things have gotten so bad? He thought of the light atmosphere when they had left only hours before, and he wanted to scream and break something. It just wasn't fair. He stared at the back of the Light boy's hair as he unlocked the door, and fought the thing inside him that was driving him to speak. Not tonight… Probably never.

Rock thrust the key into the lock, eyes downcast, then turned it, slipping the key back into his pocket. He paused at the door, still staring at the knob. "Forte… I'm really sorry." He murmured quietly. "I don't think any differently of you." He glanced up at him guiltily, like a child caught stealing from his mother's purse.

Forte nodded a little, stiffly. "Yeah, I know. It's okay." But it wasn't really, not by a long shot. And Rock did think differently of him now, of that much he was sure. He just couldn't tell if there was more pity or disgust in those eyes.

Rock nodded back slowly, as if in agreement with the taller boy. "Things just got out of hand, tonight."

Forte frowned a little. That had been the understatement of the century. Things had gone to hell in a hand basket three hours ago. Things had been spiralling out of control since he had pulled the blindfold from Rock's eyes, maybe even before then. What was he doing here? Had he honestly expected some great in his change in his life by coming here? Things were always going to be shit, he should have stepped up and accepted that a long time ago.

He pat Rock on the head briefly, two taps, then stepped inside, slipping his shoes off and tossing them to the side lightly. When they reached the stairwell, they broke away from each other with a surprising sense of finality as Forte headed for the living room instead of up the stairs.

Rock must have sensed and possibly hoped for this, he said nothing and let Forte go, heading instead up the creaking stairs to bed, not casting so much as a glance in his direction.

Forte settled onto the couch quietly, burying his face in a cushion, and sank into an exhaustive sleep. The nightmares that night were the worst yet, and he fell from one to the next with a vivid intensity he'd never experienced before.


	13. Part 1: Luck

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: Wow… So much for weekly posts lol. Sorry guys, things have been absolutely crazy on my side here.

I would have posted it sooner, despite all this, but I actually just wrote these two scenes, because I felt that between the last chapter and the one after this, things just didn't flow right. Anyway, go ahead and read.

P.S – I find it ironic that the thirteenth chapter is the one where Forte's luck finally runs out XD;;;; *dork*

"_I can detach myself from the world. If there is a better world to detach oneself from than the one functioning at the moment I have yet to hear of it." _

_~ P.G. Wodehouse_

_**Chapter Thirteen – Luck**_

Wily sat back, spine quivering and throbbing with a near arthritic ache, admiring his work silently. It was nowhere near completion, of course, but he was making a fair amount of progress. A surprising amount, given his age and current health. Then again, he had always been very determined about these things. He still had a long way to go, but he was getting there and he knew it.

At first he thought he wouldn't have enough time to finish and activate his work before his time came, but now things were starting to look up. He hoped his health held out long enough for him to get this one last robot finished. If he could just do that, he would be set for whatever was left of his life. Of course, if something _did_ go wrong, he would have a back up plan. He always had a backup plan.

He could have gone on for a few hours more if he'd really wanted to, but tonight he was celebrating. He poured himself a drink, and toasted the still skeleton of the robot on the table. "To always winning." He tipped the glass back, and let the cool liquid down his throat, burning all the way down. His face wore a smug, cocky grin because it was true, he _had_ won again.

It had been so long since he'd sent a select few robot masters out to locate Forte that it had nearly slipped his mind. Even that wasn't completely true, he reflected. It had been so long that he'd thought Forte had simply fled the country, maybe the entire Eastern hemisphere. The fact that one of _his_ robots may have gotten away infuriated him. So, of course it was easier to just forget about it altogether, push it to the side indefinitely and simply disregard his defeat.

Then he had gotten the good news.

It had happened almost entirely by luck, he was sure of that. The robot master who had seen Forte hadn't even been looking for him. Still, accident or not, he had been found. He couldn't remember which robot it had been now, his memory had little hiccoughs like that now and again as he grew older, but he supposed it didn't matter.

The robot master had finished his watch for the day, and was grabbing a bite to eat when he'd heard a very familiar voice yelling at someone angrily. Glancing casually over his menu, he had spotted none other than Forte, sitting on a stool and having a heated discussion with a dark haired boy. He seemed incredibly upset, and didn't realize that one of his fellow robots was only a few feet behind him.

He would have attacked the little weasel right then, witnesses or not, but as Forte stood up and threw a handful of change on the table, he realized his fellow Wily bot was with none other than Rockman. As the two stormed out of the diner, seemingly calmed down a little, he trailed them slowly from a distance. Neither Rock nor Forte noticed, too busy giving each other the silent treatment, and they led him directly to Dr. Light's laboratory without the slightest clue.

Wily smiled bitterly, unhappy with Forte's poor choice of companionship, but at the same time it was so obvious he was surprised he hadn't thought of it sooner. It made perfect sense, of course. After awakening to his destroyed companion, Forte's survival instincts had kicked in and he'd decided to abandon ship with Gospel's body in case he was repairable – he wasn't, he'd seen to that personally.

Wily had been correct in his thinking that far, but what he hadn't considered was how badly the little bastard wanted to see his support unit repaired. When he had heard about Gospel's missing remains, he'd assumed that Forte had pulled some crazy stunt and had tried to repair Gospel on his own. Forte deeply hated Rock, so the thought that he would actually go to the person he hated the most to get his repair unit fixed was beyond his level of thinking.

When Forte had fled, he must have gone straight to Thomas Light and called some kind of a truce to get him to fix Gospel and possibly to seek sanctuary. He frowned, clenching his hands into fists angrily. If he had traded _any_ information to stay there Forte would pay… He would pay over and over until he decided the debt was paid. After all, he could keep repairing him after being destroyed.

Still, it wasn't too late. He knew Forte wouldn't go anywhere without Gospel after having come so close to losing him, and the lupine model hadn't been in his presence at the time he was spotted. That meant that Dr. Light's efforts must have been lost on the support unit, and that was a good thing. If Forte still hadn't left after that, it meant he wasn't going to. And that worked perfectly for him.

It seemed that Forte had been at least half right, however. Even though Dr. Light had been unable to repair Gospel, it seemed they had taken Forte himself in. In fact it seemed he had found himself a little family, Gospel or no Gospel. He felt his lip curl in disgust at the thought. He had never understood Light's desire to turn his robots into some kind of a pseudo family. He should have spent less time tinkering with his little boy styled robots, and more time tinkering with a woman if it was an heir he'd wanted.

He himself had never bothered much, one way or the other. Why concern himself with carrying on the family name? When he was finished, there wasn't a man, woman, or child who wouldn't know his name. Being infamous was more than enough for him. When he died, to hell with the world and everything in it. _That_ was what this robot was really about. When he died, the world would no longer be his. If he couldn't have it, neither could the rest of humanity. Their deaths would follow his.

He left the lab and drew his lab coat up against the cold, damp air, thinking. He would take care of Forte eventually, that much was certain, but for the time being it was actually beneficial to have him where he was, in his enemy's lab. Forte wasn't stupid, he was relatively sure that he wouldn't talk about what he'd seen and what he'd thought he'd seen around the fortress. He would, however, tell him all about Thomas Light's lab with a little persuasion. Forte always talked under duress.

So yes, for now he would allow it, allow Forte to stay with the Lights and play family until Wily was ready to reap the benefits of that living situation. He would be supervised, of course. He wasn't a fool, he knew Forte instinctively hated Rock, and he also knew how paranoid his robot must be about being discovered. He couldn't have Forte slip through his fingers, flee the continent in a moment of anger or fear.

To ensure everything went smoothly, he would have a robot master spying on the laboratory from a distance every minute until it was finally time to move in, gathering as much information as possible. Then he would retrieve Forte, and he would make him talk – sit down and have a private meeting. Or, if enough time had passed by then, Forte's meeting would be with his new creation.

He chuckled to himself idly, heading to bed. However things went, he would make certain that losing Gospel was only the beginning of the bot's worries. Nobody turned on Dr. Albert Wily.

Forte sat up abruptly, a sheen of cold sweat covering his pale, naked flesh, shaking – was he shaking? He had just had the mother of all bad dreams. He pushed off the blanket he had been tangled in, frowning in frustration. Usually his dreams escaped him, seeping back to the depths of his memory banks before he could grasp them, but this time it held fast, and he was stuck with it for the time being.

"Calm down, jackass… you were dreaming." He grabbed the shirt he had discarded when he'd crawled under the blankets on the couch, slipping it over his head and trying to will the cold sweat away, telling himself it was the real reason he was shivering. He pulled the covers over to him carefully, hugging them idly and letting his mind take him back, back to the dream he'd had.

He had been in his room again, his room back at the fortress. Everything was the same, down to even the smallest detail – books, lighting, cracks in the wall… Only one thing wasn't the same, he wasn't alone this time. There was a shadow, and upon turning to see who was sitting in the blankets next to him, he discovered Rock was there. That seemed to make everything better, everything somehow complete, and he grabbed onto the boy, burying his face deep in his neck, begging him to draw out the terror nearly paralysing him.

Rock was as he had been before the situation at the diner, and he had murmured his familiar, comforting words, reassuring him of their friendship, asking him what it was bothering him so badly. He folded his arms around Forte, body warm and soothing, coaxing Forte to tell him what was so wrong.

Forte looked up at him with a kind of blind trust, wanting the comfort and security he was offering. Suddenly he was holding the tea cup in his hands all over again, and he stared down into his sepia reflection, fighting back the blockage building up in his throat. He let his eyes travel back up to the shorter boy, and he told Rock what had happened here, in this room, what Wily had done to him as he lay on the floor like some kind of animal. Told him everything.

After he let spill everything that had happened, everything souring inside his mind, he broke down sobbing, letting Rock stroke back his hair and working at regaining control of the situation. Finally he managed to quiet down enough to realize he heard another sound faintly. At first he thought it was the sound of tears, Rock's crying. Then he recognized it for what it really was. Laughter. Rock had laughed at him.

He looked up at the boy, shocked, and what he saw made his heart drop and his blood run cold. Rock was grinning down at that, chuckling idly. He opened his mouth to ask him why, and the boy threw his head back, voice exploding into a loud bout of laughter. Only the laugh didn't originate from the boy's sweet voice. He knew that laugh all too well, it was the stale, raspy, and cruel laugh of Albert Wily.

He tried to shove him back, to remove himself from the situation, but the older robot grabbed him, holding him firmly in place and staring down at him with eyes far too cold to ever belong to Rock. The blank property in them terrified him, and he writhed against his grip, wanting nothing more than to get away. Then, before he could do anything else, Rock leaned toward him and pulled him into a vile parody of a kiss.

Forte cringed at the sharp stab of fear in his chest over the memory of the dream, frowning as goosebumps formed on his arms. No… He wouldn't think about it. It was just a dream. He buried his face in his hands, frustrated, and pulled them back wet in surprised. It seemed that something other than the terror had carried over from his nightmare. He had been crying in his sleep.

He growled faintly in frustration and got up quietly, glancing at the clock. He'd hardly slept at all. He hadn't been able to sleep since they'd gotten back from the diner two days ago. Two days since he'd talked to Rock. He didn't need to be told that his behaviour was a by-product of his personal fears more than Rock's reaction, but he didn't know how to approach Rock about it. He didn't know how to stop himself from slowly losing his sanity. It had to stop, but he didn't know how.

He was depressed, but he couldn't deal with that either, so he followed his first basic instinct and decided to remove himself from the situation. Go somewhere dark and cold, where he could fold in on himself until he either broke or buried everything deep inside, where he could hide it from himself. He'd tried to heal, and that had failed miserably.

He stopped at the top of the stairs, glancing out the window and into the dark void the backyard existed in at three in the morning. The worst part of the nightmare was that when he first woke up, he was still buried so deep in that state that he almost swore he saw a shadow outside his window, that he was being watched by some nymph from the realm of the dark dreams haunting him. But that was just a dream.

… Just a dream.


	14. Part 1: Reflection

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: Ouch…. I can't believe it's been so long since I've posted something to this fic. Over 6 months! Unfortunately, my situation only went from bad to worse than what it was before, Since that post we've moved into this lovely house that's literally falling apart at the seams (thank god we're renting!). Things will probably continue to be spotty until we can get out of this place in early March.

Thank you everyone who's reviewed this, it's appreciated, I read every one, and that's actually what got me to come here and post the next chapter. So again, thank you! Keep them coming, I like to see what people think of my works.

~Gimp

_"Live out of your imagination, not your history." -Stephen Covey_

_**Chapter Fourteen – Reflection **_

Rock stirred idly, cracking his eyes open and glaring at the bright sun, casting its light over his bed. Outside, birds twittered cheerily, welcoming the morning and preventing him from getting any real sleep. He reached over slowly, with no real coordination, and grabbed the cord for his blinds, dropping them down over the morning scene. He rolled back over and promptly burrowed his head under his pillow.

His eyes ached, and his body felt heavy and useless. Both were definite signs that he had fallen asleep crying again, and that it wasn't over yet. He sighed, trying to rest, an quickly realized that he wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep. He was exhausted, thoughts came agonizingly slow, yet he couldn't sleep. He sat up reluctantly, leaning back on his hand, and ran its mate through his hair slowly, casting a glance to the empty space next to him.

Forte's side of the bed was very much the way it had been since the night of the incident. The blanket on his side was still tucked into the mattress, pillow untouched. Rock realized the left side of the bed had been made for three days straight now, and suddenly his eyes flooded with tears again.

He bit them back, teeth pressing firmly on his lower lip, and he reached over slowly, grabbing the pillow and pulling it to his chest. He pressed his face into it lightly, dampening the pillowcase and breathing in Forte's rapidly fading scent idly. That only made it worse, and he yelled into it, frustrated and crying bitterly.

The thought that what had happened three nights ago might be irreversible became real to him for the first time, and he felt his breath rush out, stomach feeling full of heavy lead. How could it be over so swiftly and mercilessly? It was so unfair, to finally get close, really close to Forte; to finally start to understand him, only to have everything torn away at the most important, pivotal moment.

He got out of bed slowly, wondering vaguely what he was going to say to Forte when he saw him. The thought strengthened the feeling of dread, and he pushed it aside for the time being. Until he came up with the right words to say to the younger boy, it might be best to just avoid him altogether. The thought of saying the wrong thing again – of saying something that _hurt_ him again… he didn't think he could go through that twice.

He slipped into the shower quietly, letting the hot water run over him and soothe him, and allowed himself to drift away from the present and back to the previous night. He closed his eyes, drawing then releasing a deep, slow breath, and found it wasn't very difficult at all to return to that moment.

His first major mistake had been asking Forte if he was sure about what Wily had done to him. He couldn't believe he'd let that escape his lips – it wasn't as though he could have accidentally mistook something the old man said or did for that. Asking Forte if he was certain Wily had touched him had essentially been a slap in the face, and a hard one at that. It was almost as bad as calling him a liar.

Thinking back on the face Forte had made when Rock had asked him that was even more painful. Something in Forte broke the instant he asked him that question. After that look, he had seconds to pre-empt the melt down before it occurred.

He was certain that Forte was still amidst that breakdown even now, as he stood here in the shower, water running down his back in thick rivulets. The thought of Forte suffering like that broke Rock's heart, and he couldn't stand the fact that it was something he couldn't protect the younger boy from.

Still, he couldn't help it. The disgust he felt wasn't directed toward Forte himself – it had been a long time since he'd felt any real disgust or even anger toward the Wily bot. The revulsion he felt was aimed completely at his creator. Dr. Wily was an awful person, and he had seriously hurt someone very important to him.

The thought of Forte suffering like that broke Rock's heart the same way that conversation had broken the younger robot's mind. Still, he couldn't help it. The disgust he felt wasn't directed toward Forte himself – it had been a long time since he'd felt any real disgust or even anger toward the Wily bot. The revulsion he felt was aimed completely at his creator. Dr. Wily was an awful person, and he had seriously hurt someone very important to him.

He pictured himself telling Forte that, saw a quick, painless solution to the problem, and then realized that it wouldn't happen that way. When he went to tell Forte about it, he would probably just clam up again, or say the wrong thing altogether, and there would be no second chances for him.

He felt so helpless, like his hands were tied, and he hated it. He wished he had just held everything in when Forte had finally told him what happened. IF he had just kept his mouth shut until he'd had the chance to recover from the shock of what had happened to Forte, he would never have ended up in this situation.

Opening his mouth without thinking it through first and then trying to cover it up had probably been an even worse mistake. Forte probably thought he was lying to him now. He reached out, turning the shower off, and sighed faintly. That hadn't been the ultimate mistake, as bad an idea as his comment had been. The biggest mistake he'd made that night had been made right at the end.

The worst thing he had done had been letting Forte go to bed without fixing things right then. At that point, the shock had been greater than the anger, and he could have stopped the situation before it ever snowballed into what it was now. He wasn't stupid, he knew things were going to be a lot worse now.

He towelled off slowly, thinking the situation over as he did so, then dropped it into the laundry basket haphazardly, leaning against the door frame and staring at his bed. Suddenly he was just so drained, just so _tired_, that he wanted nothing more than to crawl back under the covers. He thought it over quietly, staring at the neatly made left side of the bed, then walked over to it slowly, running his hand over the coverlet idly. Then he lay down carefully, leaving the cover the way it was and closed his eyes.

He didn't sleep.

Rock was seated on the couch quietly, playing an old fighting game, when Blues strolled into the room and sat next to him. "Hey. Uh… where's Forte?" He grabbed the other controller and hit start, to play a few rounds with his younger brother. Rock had seemed lonely lately, suddenly without Forte's company, and was brooding a lot, something unusual for him.

Rock selected his character, and the round began. "Dunno. Around." He mumbled, without looking over at him. There was a silence while Blues waited for him to continue, but he didn't contribute anything else to the conversation, h wasn't feeling very talkative.

Blues raised a brow at that. "What do you mean, you don't know? I thought you two were hanging around now." He mashed buttons, only half paying attention to the game now. "I haven't seen him in awhile, come to think of it."

Rock shrugged a little. "We were. We stopped." He stared hard at the screen, as if focusing, but he didn't seem much more into it than Blues.

"You stopped? Just like that?" He frowned a little, that was the most un-Rock comment he had ever heard come out of the younger boy's mouth, especially when referring to Forte. Rock had always had trouble letting things go, and he had been pursuing Forte's friendship rather diligently for a long time now, ever since the Wily boy and him had met, to be precise. It was very unlike him, and he couldn't help feeling nervous. "Did something happen?"

Rock shrugged a little, then hit the pause button. "Sort of. It's private." He bit his lip, unsure of how much of what had happened was okay to tell Blues. "He told me something, and I didn't know what to do." That was the truth of it. He hadn't known what to do then, and he didn't know what to do now. "I can't tell you what it was about."

But Blues was already getting up. "You don't have to. It's between you and him."

Rock watched him get up, torn between telling his brother what happened and getting some sound advice, or saying nothing and respecting Forte's privacy. "I didn't know what to say." He said finally. "I didn't know, so I didn't say anything, and I hurt his feelings." The tears came, and he wiped at them with the heel of his hand. "He trusted me enough to tell me, and I just… I just _stared_ at him!"

Blues stood there a moment, looking reflective. "If I were you, I'd talk to him again, and soon. He'll leave eventually, if he thinks you don't want him around. Besides, you finally made friends with him, do you really want to give that up?"

Rock shook his head slightly. "I… I want to apologize, but I don't know how. I don't know what to say. What if I try to talk to him, and I just end up making things works again?" He was crying harder now, chin tucked down against his chest and hands clenched against his sides, tears falling freely into his lap.

Blues came up behind him and leaned over the back of the couch, arms encircling him in a slight hug and chin resting atop his head. "Rock, I know you better than that. You were just unprepared before. Things will be different this time." He let go, and stood up straight, ending their brief hug. "Talk to him tonight, okay? You'll feel better."

Rock glanced over the back of the chair at him and nodded slightly. "Okay. I'll talk to him tonight." He gave the older Light bot a small smile.

Blues nodded slightly, smiling back at him. "Good. I'm going to go take a nap now, so keep it down. He gave him a lazy, half wave, and headed out of the living room, watching from the corner of his eye as Rock sank back down on the couch in relief, then headed for the basement steps.


	15. Part 1: Airing Dirty Laundry

**A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

A/N: And several months later, here is the next chapter to the fic. .-. A lot's happened since the last chapter I posted here. There isn't really one event in particular that kept me from getting back to this, really, just a snowball effect of several things. I've been sick, but I've got surgery coming up in a few weeks, and I got a promotion at work to an escalation manager (happy!)

Moving forward, I'm going to try and update this a lot more often. After this chapter there are two more chapters to the first part of this story. I've got most of them both finished, I just have two scenes to fill in and then the editing process. I hope to have the next chapter up by next week, and the final up before I go in for surgery. Hopefully I will return from that with some short stories or the first chapter of part two.

One last thing. I'd like to really thank the people who have sent me e-mails and reviews about this fic and others. If it wasn't for the occasional review I still got in the mail, I don't think I would have returned to this story. Again, thank you for taking time out of your busy days to read and review my fics. Enjoy the chapter, it's a long one! :)

_-Gimp_

-P.S – I went back through the old chapters of this and fixed some scripting errors/removed comments at work that gave away too much information about what company I work for / who our clients are. Shhh... ;)

I also read over the first part of this, and I'm really not that satisfied with some of the earlier chapters up to this point. I haven't decided if I'm going to redo and replace them, append them to the end of this, or just say forget it though. Any thoughts or suggestions are appreciated.

"_By compassion we make others' misery our own, and so, by relieving them, we relieve ourselves also." _

_- Thomas Browne_

_**Chapter Fifteen – Airing Dirty Laundry**_

Blues wasn't actually going to nap, and he already knew where Forte was hiding out. He like to keep tabs on his family and anyone who stepped foot into their lives. He'd acted aloof because he wanted to get as much of the full story as possible out of Rock first, and hear his side of what happened; he'd learned a long time ago that sometimes the best way to get the information you need was through playing dumb, and once again experience proved him right.

He headed to the solid oak door separating the main floor of the house from the basement, and descended the steps slowly, flipping his shades up mindfully so he wouldn't take a spill down the dark staircase. He scanned the seldom used rec room below for any sign of Forte, not finding any, and began to check the other rooms for him, making a slow, thorough search. He knew he was down there, he'd migrated from the living room couch to the dank basement the other day, when he thought nobody was looking.

He suspected the younger bot felt more at home there, the fortress wasn't aesthetically pleasing, it definitely didn't give off the homey feeling that the Light's residence did, It wouldn't surprise him if Forte felt more comfortable in dark, damp places after spending most of his life in them. There was no sign of the him, but he wasn't deterred. He knew Forte was around, where else was he going to go? Besides, he was pretty sure that deep down he didn't want to leave, not yet at least. Even with things so bad between him and Rock, this place was an unexpected haven to him.

He stole a quick glance in the cellar, flicking on the dim light and looked around, seeing nothing, save for a few bottles of wine and some jams Rock and Roll had made last summer. Unsurprising, it was pretty chilly and damp in there, even by the Wily bot's standards. Turning, he hit the lights back off and walked the length of the basement, careful not to trip over any of the old junk that had been abandoned there. One last room to go, and the most likely at that. He opened the door and scanned the laundry room quickly, squinting a little in the dim light. There were some clothes that needed washing and some sheets and blankets from the last linen change, but that was about it.

He was so distracted with the disappointment from his fruitless search that he nearly missed him. He turned toward the door, ready to head back upstairs, when he spotted movement from the corner of his eye, catching his attention. The taller boy had completely covered himself with some blankets Roll had thrown down to wash, but a tuft of purple bangs had found their way out of the mass with his last movement. The bright contrast his violet hair had to the eggshell sheets was a dead giveaway. Blues sighed, turning on his heels and heading back over to him.

"There you are, Forte… you up?" He picked his way through sheets and pillowcases to the the far end of the laundry room, carefully making his way over to the lump of sheets and comforters containing Forte. He reached down to throw the blankets off him, but Forte poked his head out lazily before he had the chance to, groaning.

His eyes were bloodshot and glassy, and the dark bags under his eyes matched his purple face stripes, running into them and creating the illusion that the bags actually ran down the length of his face. He was far past the point of exhaustion, Blues doubted if he had slept since his falling out with Rock, if the cloudy expression on his face meant anything. "Damn, Forte... You look like hell warmed over."

"What?" Forte mumbled, almost in comprehensively, then groaned, reaching over and grabbing a pack of cigarettes. He drew one from the pack, sliding it in his mouth and cupping a hand by his face, lighting it. He'd quit while he was with Rock, the older boy didn't approve, but that was before things had gone to hell, and he had been quick to pick the habit back up. He opened a window with a grunt and an agitated sigh, wafting the smoke out it slowly.

Blues was still staring at him, if he looked as terrible as he felt, it was understandable. His posture was relaxed and gave him the impression that he wasn't going to leave him alone until Forte heard him out, no matter how long it took. He didn't think he could wait Blues out in his current state, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat, hell, even thinking was starting to become troublesome.

He let his head rest back against the wall and groaned irritably. He knew what the Light bot was here for, and he had been dreading this talk with every fibre of his being for days. He knew how the eldest Light bot felt about his younger siblings. "I'm busy. " he managed lamely, hoping he could end the conversation before it began.

Blues rolled his eyes, grabbing a small stool Roll kept around and pulling it over to the taller boy, squatting down on it awkwardly. "Really, is that so. Busy doing what, pray tell? I didn't realize moping around the basement for days on end took so much effort." He tugged the blanket off Forte a little, making a slight face. "You could at least do it rolled up in some fresh bedding. You smell like dirty laundry."

He crossed his leg under his knee, resting his arm on it and cupping his chin in his hand, raising a brow. "So tell me, why are you hiding down here despite having a soft bed with fresh sheets on it upstairs? I haven't seen you with my brother in awhile. Is there something I should know?" He was relaxed, amicable in appearance, but Forte knew better than to trust that. If Blues ever took up poker, there wouldn't be a profitable casino in the country.

Forte gave him a sour look, feeling ornery and cranky. He rest his forehead against his palm lightly, sighing. "If you're here about the trouble I gave Rock, your worries are over. We're not hanging out or talking anymore, so you can save your breath. It's over between us now, end of discussion." He smoked slowly, glaring at him defiantly.

Blues sat up a little straighter. "Then why are you hiding, Forte? If you'd already made your mind up about this, why aren't you up there, continuing on with your life?" He handed Forte an old can he'd been using as an ash tray. "I'm curious, when's the last time you came out of the basement? Hell, when was the last time you took a bath? You really do stink." He jerked the blanket the rest of the way off.. "Rolling in the dirty laundry isn't doing anything to help your personal hygiene issues."

Forte glowered at him as the blanket pulled away, leaving him cold and more alert than he wanted to be. He wanted to return to his numb, semi-conscious state, this hurt too much. "Leave me alone, damnit!" he hissed threateningly. He was still wearing the clothes he'd had on when he'd taken Rock out. "If you're just here to bother me, then you can-"

"Do you remember our little discussion awhile back?" Blues asked smoothly, ignoring Forte's angry outburst. "Because, if you do, then you'll realize that this is hurting Rock too. And I told you not to mess with my brother." He stared intensely into Forte's eyes, and the Wily bot realized why he so rarely went without his shades. While Forte did have control behind the looks he threw people, Blues' eyes could inflict every bit as emotion as his words, if not more.

He found himself staring into them helplessly, drawn to his stare and unable to speak against him. He worked his mouth slowly, trying to find his voice again. He sighed, finally speaking up. "...Yeah, I remember." He grumbled reluctantly, irritated. Why was Blues bothering him about this? The older Light bot couldn't force him back into a friendship with Rock, any chances for something more than an acquaintanceship between them had been lost.

"What do you want me to do about it?" Rock would sniff the insincerity out in Forte almost immediately if he tried to pretend things were alright between them. Blues had to be insightful enough to see that. He couldn't understand why the older boy was wasting his time down here with him. Why wouldn't he leave him to suffer in peace?

Blues furrowed his brow, frustrated, then sighed and relaxed slightly, a lot of the anger leaving his eyes. "Well, you can start by being honest with yourself." He shook his head a little, slouching down on the stool again. "You're not really angry with Rock, you know. You're upset at yourself." He gave Forte a meaningful stare, as if to say he knew exactly what was going on. Bullshit.

He glared at the Light bot, practically bristling, annoyed. "What the hell do you know anyway?" He was so done with this conversation, time to end this while things were still under his control. It was bad enough that Blues was here in the first place, interrupting his thoughts and making him more miserable than he already was,

He couldn't even hide in the basement to be alone anymore. He hated the fact that Blues had the nerve to even imply that he thought he knew anything about how Forte was feeling. He found the whole situation downright insulting. "In case you forgot, you weren't there, Blues. Why don't you just turn around, and go back upstairs?" He narrowed his eyes threateningly.

Blues countered Forte's looks with a slight grin. The humour fell short of his eyes, however. "Who said I wasn't around? I told you I'd be watching you." He sighed with a small shrug. "I've been following you everywhere you've gone since you got here." Forte glared at him, looking further insulted, and suddenly more than a little nervous. "Well, except for that night." He added with a slight shrug. "I wasn't there that night."

Forte sighed in relief. He'd been worried someone might have seen his little make-out session with Rock, especially Blues. Apparently he'd been lucky, he didn't doubt for a second that Blues had been tailing them the other times.. He thought of Rock sliding down him slowly, the warmth between his thighs, and sighed. He really didn't like the idea of being spied on.

He snorted indignantly, trying to mask the raw state his nerves were in, and draw the conversation away from what he felt was dangerous territory. He didn't want to think about the theatre. "What, couldn't afford a ticket?" He asked with a sarcastic air, trying to get a rise out of him and distract him.

"Fuck no, I'm loaded, you idiot." Blues rolled his eyes. "I just hate opera, and even watching you wasn't worth subjecting myself to that." He gave Forte a small grin, expecting an irritated response, or at least a glare, but got nothing in response from the distracted look. He could tell Forte didn't like to be reminded of that night. "What in the hell happened between you to cause such a rift?" he asked finally, perturbed. He was rarely in the dark on things like this, and he didn't like it one bit.

Forte shrugged a little, and Blues crossed his arms angrily. "Damnit… you didn't try to get him to sleep with you, did you?" He didn't look happy with the thought, but it was the only thing he could think of that could cause such a sudden awkwardness between them so fast. He couldn't see Forte proclaiming his love to his brother, and worse yet, he couldn't see Rock unhappy about it. He must have come onto him or something. Unless…

Forte picked a ball of lint off the blanket distractedly, wondering if Blues realized how close they had actually gotten to sleeping together. How obvious had the shift in their feelings for each other been to everyone around them? Blues seemed to know more than Forte himself had known. He felt heat rising to his face, ashamed. "No, don't be ridiculous."

He didn't want to think about sex right now, or ever if he could avoid it. "He wouldn't be interested in me, even if that were the case." Blue was eyeing him analytically, and he looked away, unhappy with being watched like an insect in an old mason jar. He wondered how Blues always managed to make him more uncomfortable than anyone else around him. Why was he making him think about things better left alone?

Forte got unsteadily to his feet to find a better hiding place, when Blues reached out and stopped him. "Wait." The blush that had begun to form on his cheeks had faded and fast, leaving him pale and clearly nervous. Things were starting to fall into place now. The way he'd run away from Wily, his long walk with Dr. Light, the sudden lack of confidence and skittish nature. And his conversation with Rock, they'd talked about something private, something bad… "I think I get it."

Forte frowned, brushing Blues' hand off of him and settling back again, aching to leave and get as far away from the older boy as possible. "I doubt that." He had a terrible, sinking feeling that Blues was going to bring up something he didn't want to talk about. More specifically, the one thing he never wanted to have to think about again, though it never seemed far off in his mind.

Blues fixed his gaze on him silently, settling back more himself, ready to spend a long time discussing this if need be. Forte didn't have to confess, he was already piecing the puzzle together in his mind. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more certain he was. It would take something terrible to shake the confidence out of someone as cocky as Forte was. "...Yes I do." he stated confidently. "I know exactly what it was. It's Wily. The good doctor's been after you, hasn't he? And when you told Rock, he couldn't take it."

Forte stared at him, stunned and trying to gather enough wit about him to deny that, to say something – anything - and then he realized it was pointless. Blues knew, he was reading Forte even now, analyzing his response, and he'd taken too damned long to argue now. How could he know that? How could he know the one thing that Forte wanted to go to the grave with him.

Rock. Rock wouldn't have... couldn't have. "H-he told you?" Forte demanded, cursing himself for stammering, and fighting a surprisingly overwhelming sense of betrayal, hurt and humiliated. A small part of him wondered if this was how Rock had felt when he'd lied his way into the smaller bot's life when they first met. Maybe this was some small form of revenge... "Why would he tell you? It was… that conversation was-"

"Private, I know." Blues shook his head slowly, eyes intense, searching. "Don't be ridiculous, Rock would never tell me something that personal if you didn't want him to. He's almost as good at keeping secrets as I am, when they're worth keeping." He sighed, pulling his shades off his head and busying his hands with them. "I wouldn't need him to tell me what Wily did to you."

Forte was staring at Blues quietly, stunned. It was the most Blues had ever said to him at once without hurtling insults his way. It was a side of Blues he'd never seen before. His posture had changed subtly, he had gone slightly rigid. "What in the name of hell are you talking about? Who told you? How do you know?" He frowned deeply, ruling out Dr. Light even as he thought of him. "There's no way Tom would ever tell you, he's like a psychologist, so he has to keep secrets. How did you find out?"

Blues shot him a wry smile. "No, he didn't tell me either. And he's a scientist, you ass." It was said lightly, like a joke, but his eyes were cold, and a grin never found his face. "You could say I made a _very_ educated guess." His face was grim now, and his eyes had a strange, distant look in them. "Like most people, you forget that Wily helped Dr. Light build me, before he supposedly went insane. Let me tell you, he never "went" anything. That sorry son of a bitch was crazy as hell right from square one."

His eyes had become vacant somehow, as thought remembering had extinguished the life in him. They were as unreadable as they were when his shades were on, his mind was lost in the past for now. "It was another lifetime ago, but it happened."

Forte stared at him in nothing short of awe. "What are you saying?" he asked quietly, although he needn't have, he knew perfectly well what Blues was getting at. Still, it seemed impossible. This couldn't be happening, he wasn't hearing this; not from someone as independent and well-adjusted as Blues. He didn't take crap from anyone, not even his own creator.

"What do you think I'm saying?" Blues asked, voice heavy with bitter hate. "Dr. Wily was a mean bastard, and he was at me as soon as Dr. Light had his back turned around. He treated me horrendously, and he did disgusting, unspeakable acts…" A little life returned to his eyes, and he glanced up at Forte again, expression still neutral. "Probably close to the things he does to the lot of you now, but it was so much worse. There was just me, and he focused all that pent up anger and hatred on only me."

Forte's face was a collage of expressions, and he was chewing on his lower lip slowly, as he digested the unsettling news Blues was giving him. He continued. "He was the reason I ran, you know. I faked my death and dropped off the face of the planet to get away from him. I was afraid and alone, but I knew they wouldn't look for me if they thought I was destroyed. It took a long time before I was able to come within 100 metres of a human after that."

Blues sighed faintly, resting his chin back on his palm lightly. "When you showed up on our doorstep, it was the first thing I thought of." He admitted, thinking back to the day the younger robot arrived. "I should have known then. I don't know why it took me so long to put it together."

Forte was staring at Blues in blatant disbelief. He couldn't be hearing this, not from _Blues_. If there was one person who'd always had it together, it was him. He had to have heard it from Rock, or Tom, or overheard Forte saying something, and was playing one hell of a cruel prank. It was extremely unlikely, but still it was more plausible than believing that Blues had ever let Wily touch him. Finally, he spoke reluctantly. His tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of his mouth. "That's not funny." His voice was small, lacking any real menace.

Blues frowned at him a little. "It wasn't meant to be funny." He folded his arms over his chest, staring at him with a surly glare. "Do you honestly think I would lie about something like that to you? Why bother?" He met Forte's gaze, eyes burning into his intensely.

Forte glared back at him for a few seconds, then let his eyes drop, considering it. The chance that Blues was lying to him was extremely slim, there was no way someone with any sense of dignity would ever admit to something like that unless there were some serious grounds to it. Especially someone like Blues, who really had no reason to lie about it, he hardly spoke to Forte as it was. It had to be true.

Still, Blues hated him, why would he bother telling him this? Why was he even down here, wasting his day away talking to Forte? Rock must have been really bothered by it, otherwise he doubted Blues would have even bothered. He realized the older robot was still staring at him like that, holding the ashtray up for Forte. There was a long, towering pile of ashes piled on his cigarette filter. How long had he been sitting there, expressionless.

He crushed the remains into the ashtray firmly, careful to put it fully out. Blues stretched over Forte to the folding counter, setting the ashtray down lightly, gauging Forte's reaction and quietly waiting for the purple haired boy to say something. He'd said his piece.

Forte obliged finally, talking lowly to keep his voice sounding calm. He did well, considering how rattled his nerves were by all this. "Even if it were true… why the hell would you come talk to me about it? Why not just let it die? It's over." He growled, glaring at him unhappily. Stupid Blues never could just leave well enough alone. Instead he had to poke his head in where it wasn't needed, forcing more memories to the surface of his mind.

Blues sighed, reaching out and resting a firm, calming hand on Forte's shoulder. It was faint, but he could vaguely feel a small tremor from Forte's tense body. He held on firmly, preventing Forte from pulling away from him. "Because, Forte, it's not over. You're letting what happened tear you apart inside, and you don't even realize it."

Forte glared at the intrusion to his personal space. "No. I'm fine. I talked to Tom about it, and it's done with. If Rock thinks I'm just too disgusting to hang around now, well fuck him. Why would I care what he thinks." he growled out venomously. Again, he was surprised at how badly the thought of Rock's rejection of him stung. Had he really let himself get so attached?

Blues sighed. "Well, I was just up there talking to him, and he didn't sound like he thought you were that disgusting. He just sounded worried. I think we all are, in our own ways. If you don't snap out of this funk soon, Dr. Light's likely to start full out therapy sessions with you or something. He's been concerned for awhile." Concerned and distracted, he thought, wondering what it was Dr. Light was doing in there.

Forte stared at him, mildly confused. Concerned? He wasn't used to having people worry about him. And Blues had said 'we'. Having Blues worry about him seemed even more alien, and he felt the wall he had been building around himself start to crumble. When was the last time anyone had been concerned for him. Only Gospel...

He choked that thought down, he wasn't going to think about that now too, it was just too much for him to handle in his current state. "You think he was worried?" he asked after a few moments. There was something about Rock worrying about him that seemed…. Pleasant? No.. something deeper, more intense than that. A feeling that even Gospel had never instilled in him.

"Think?" Blues rolled his eyes and sighed. "You couldn't tell? He's been brooding as much as you've been hiding lately." He got up, brushing stray laundry detergent powder off his pants with a discontent sigh. "You should think about it, and talk to him. I'm getting out of here, this place freaks me out." He gave Forte a pat on the back so faint it was almost phantom, then headed upstairs, muttering to himself and rubbing the spot on his pants more.

Forte watched him leave quietly, still trying to digest everything that had just happened, then settled back again slowly, running everything over in his mind. He slipped finally into a deep, dreamless sleep where the nightmares plaguing him couldn't grab hold of him.

Dr. Thomas Light sat patiently, soldering computer chips onto a board, and glanced up, hearing Blues' muted steps approaching. It was easy to tell who it was, Blues had always been light footed without even trying, and had nearly mastered it over the years. Still, he weighed a lot more than a human, and the house was old, a little noise was inevitable.

He threw a cloth over his work in progress to keep it clean and the dust and prying eyes out, sliding over in his chair to some invoices that desperately needed filing, easing them gently into file folders and glancing up when the door slid open. "Good morning, Blues."

He couldn't mistake the disappointed look in Blues' eyes, he knew his eldest son suspected he was up to something secretive and had been hoping to catch him red handed and spot what he was keeping hidden from them. He smiled at Blues, earning a wan smile in return. "Are you alright? You look a little ill." He poured Blues a cup of tea from the tray Roll had sent up to him, handing it to him.

Blues muttered something graciously, taking a few small sips of the tea, glancing around the room slowly as he drank. "Did you talk to Forte this morning?" He asked, knowing well that he had. He'd spotted Blues heading down there and pushing his shades up into his hair earlier. He knew Blues well enough to know he wasn't headed down there to do a few loads of laundry.

Blues nodded slightly, looking around suspiciously. The old man was up to something, he could tell, but he was hard pressed to find any supporting evidence. "Yeah, I talked to him." He grumbled, giving up finally and pulling up a chair. "Being down there so long without food must have weakened him, because he actually talked to me about his problem without things turning physical." He frowned a little, looking thoughtful.

"To be honest, I told him a lot, too. More than I was planning…" He broke off there and sighed, more than happy to leave the topic at that, leaving things vague and trying to get the old man to tell him what he was up to. "Doctor Light, what are you spending so much time doing in here? We're getting worried, especially Roll. She thinks…" he lowered his voice. "_We_ think you're building another robot. Did you finally get started on… you know… project X?" They were all eagerly waiting for him to begin his latest project.

Thomas shook his head lightly, stamping out that rumour before it even left the house. "No, of course not. Blues, you know I won't have the supplies or the technology ready for that for at least three years." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "The truth is I can't tell you what I'm working on. It's a surprise, and not for you. I can't let you see it before the intended party, you know that." He left it at that, Blues wasn't the type to press further. "You'll see soon, though. I just need a few weeks."

Blues sighed, nodding slightly. "Alright, just take it easy, okay? Roll says you're forgetting to eat again." He began sorting through the papers, ignoring the amused look on Dr. Light's face.

"Roll always says that. If it were up to her, I'd be three times the size I am, and probably in the ground following a congestive heart failure." He chuckled, rummaging through the invoices with Blues. "In fact, I just-" He stopped mid-sentence, and they both fell still, listening quietly. The basement door creaked slowly open, then clicked shut, easily heard with the laboratory door open. Forte had finally come out.


	16. Part 1: Love

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**

A/N: I have absolutely no idea how I got this finished on time lol. I've stayed at least an hour late every night closing up shop because one agent or another was stuck on a call, and it's a 45 minute walk home. This probably wouldn't have been finished until tomorrow, even with how hard I tried to push through it, but my kitty woke me up this morning and wouldn't let me go back to sleep.

I had to censor out a considerable chunk of this chapter (almost half) for obvious reasons. :p If you want the uncensored version you can hunt it down on , or you can e-mail, PM, or leave a review about it and I'll get it to you. Also, anyone who's asked for a chapter of something and been missed by me in the past, let me know, I can still get it to you. I went through a lot of craziness for awhile so I think I may have had one or two slip between the cracks.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter, and please review and let me know what you think. :)

~Gimp

_You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly. _

_ ~Sam Keen_

_**Chapter Sixteen – Love**_

Rock sat on the porch with a blanket draped over his shoulders lightly. The seasons were starting to change, and already at night there was a slight chill, though the cicadas were still in full lilt during the day. But he wasn't thinking about that, nor was he watching the stars; he hardly watched them anymore. He stared up at them, sure, but he didn't really see them. His fight with Forte still weighed heavily on his conscience, and his stomach felt leaden with guilt.

What had he been thinking that night? Why had he done that? Forte had been trying to come to him, to clear his conscience and voice his concerns, and he had pushed him away. And now he was never going to make things right, because Forte was avoiding him like the plague, and he wouldn't let him get close enough to him to even talk about it. Rock wasn't sure he _could_ talk about it if given the opportunity anyway. Were there really any words appropriate for the situation anyway?

He let out a deep, long sigh and leaned back onto his elbows, tilting his head back and yelping loudly. He was staring up into the upside down image of Forte, head falling just short of his left foot. "You scared me!" He must have been really lost in his thoughts for Forte to get so close without him sensing him at all. He sat up quickly, heart racing, and pat next to him. "You're so quiet, I didn't hear you approach." He smiled nervously, trying to think of something to say to break the ice, anything. Forte stared back at him, his face a clay mask. Only his eyes had any life to them,surveying him silently.

He sat back up quickly, feeling colour rise to his cheeks, trying his best to look approachable and friendly. Forte was still looking at him, and he didn't look like he was going to leave. It wasn't much, but it was as close as he'd gotten to the Wily bot since that nice. He realized Forte hadn't said anything yet, so he took it upon himself to start up the conversation before he let the opportunity to finally talk slip between his fingers. "Forte… Look, I didn't-"

"I miss you." He'd said it quietly, and over top of what Rock was saying, but the older boy stopped dead, and he knew he'd heard him correctly. He sank down slowly next to Rock. "I didn't mean to disgust you." he murmured, staring at his feet, unable to look Rock in the eye, waiting expectantly for him to say something. He couldn't remember seeing Forte look this nervous before. Rock was stunned, fighting with his mind for words. "Rock... please..."

Rock stared at him quietly, reading his body language, and he felt his eyes flood over with tears. "I… I missed you too." He reached over and hugged Forte tightly, expecting a stiff hug back at most, but Forte was warm and accepting, returning the embrace with a surprising softness. He left his arms draped around Rock quietly, staying like that, intimately close.

Rock made a small noise, wanting this moment, this closeness to last. When he spoke, the words came easily. All that time struggling with his thoughts, practising speeches, and it came smoothly and naturally, "I'm sorry… I wasn't disgusted by you. I… It was just so shocking. I didn't know how to help you." He reached out with a slightly shaking hand and rest it on the side of Forte's face gently. "I want to help you..." he murmured idly.

Forte opened his mouth to say something, and suddenly Rock was kissing him, tongue pushing up to meet his, and he welcomed it, arms encircling him tighter as he wrestled for control of the kiss. His hands roved, groping onto Rock's blanket, using it to pull the shorter boy closer, invite him into his personal space. Stay... he wanted Rock to stay by his side, break through the emotional wall he'd entombed himself in.

It didn't take long for Rock to submit, and he tipped him back on the stairs, pulling his body up to his and moaning into his mouth quietly as the kiss consumed his thoughts. It wasn't as rough or demanding as the kiss at the theatre had been, but felt more passionate, more binding. They were content for awhile with just the kiss, Forte's hand caressing his body lightly, staying away from his more erogenous areas but coming close, spiking his pleasure nodes but going no further.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, but when finally Forte pulled his mouth away, the moon had fully risen. They stared at each other silently for several minutes, at a loss for words, not wanting to dissolve the atmosphere around them. Finally Forte leaned in again slowly, giving him a surprisingly innocent peck on the cheek as Rock was pulled into a sitting position again. His hair brushed almost ghost-like against his face for just a second. Then he settled against Forte's warmth and let his thoughts gather again from their scattered state.

"I don't want to leave." Forte murmured, pulling Rock closer and running his fingers through his hair idly. "I want to stay here, with you." His life had changed so much in the past months, for the better. This was what he wanted, this was what he'd wanted for a long time now. He only wished it hadn't taken his conversation with Blues for him to realize it. He was in love with Rock, and Rock was in love with him. He wasn't going to let his past prevent him from what could be a very happy future.

Rock was staring at him silently, looking both in shock and anticipation. "Rock... it's been hell without you. I don't want to live like this anymore." He used his grip on Rock's hair to tilt his head back and kissed him again, insistent and tender. He didn't want to run from his past anymore, running was so exhaustive; he would learn from his past instead, and use it to make his current life better.

Rock returned the kiss eagerly, wrapping his arms around Forte's neck firmly and spreading his legs instinctively, letting Forte's hips rest between them. "Please don't leave." The younger boy's pelvis was pressing against his groin in a way that was making tangible thought all but impossible. "Stay with me, Forte... Whatever happened, It doesn't change how I feel about you." He choked on his words a little, burying his face in Forte's neck firmly.

"... I won't. I promise, I won't." Forte soothed, raking his tongue over the pale, tender flesh of Rock's neck. His skin was warm and soft, and he held onto Forte tighter, welcoming his advances openly. "I... I pushed you away, I'm so sorry." He tilted his head up slightly, kissing his jaw affectionately. "I've been such a fool."

"We've both been fools... I clammed up. I wanted to say so much to you. I never should have let you go before I told you that I... I'm in love with you, Forte." He said it with such a deep sincerity that Forte didn't doubt the truth behind his words. He leaned up more, planting a sweet kiss on Forte's forehead, and the taller boy grabbed him suddenly, hips sliding forward to meet Rock's. The older boy writhed with an animated moan as his body urged Forte silently on.

It was easy to gauge Rock's readiness, he could feel the heat and stiffness pressed tight against his belly. An exciting, almost electric pulse ran through his groin, and he bit onto Rock's ear gently in anticipation. "... let's leave the past where it is, the present is much more interesting." He cleared his throat as Rock turned an impossible shade of red. "I want you. I want to take you upstairs and have you, right now." He sighed, arms still encircling him as he ran his fingers slowly down Rock's spine. "It's a little soon for that, but..."

"I want you too. I want to go upstairs." Rock agreed, offering no resistance and just as much thought. His mind had been made up as soon as Forte reciprocated his feelings. Forte rest a hand on his cheek, stroking it gently, and he kissed his palm lightly, suddenly aware of their surroundings.

"We should go before we get caught out here." His voice was barely a whisper, and Forte lifted off him suddenly, and he almost resisted, halting only because the Wily bot bent forward, kissing his forehead with an unmistakable tenderness as he pulled his companion closer still, He gathered him up in his arms swiftly, slipping through the screen door with him quietly.

"Okay…" He murmured with as much reluctance as he could muster – which wasn't much. Rock was just so agreeable, he couldn't help but feel a little concerned that he didn't know what he was getting himself into – hell, _he_ wasn't fully aware of what situation they were getting into yet. Things were moving so fast, but they just seemed so... so _right._

The drive was there, Rock was ready and willing, and he honestly didn't think he could hold back any longer. He was tired of resisting, not when such strong words had just passed between them; it wasn't so much a want as a need anymore. He kissed Rock one last time, more to reassure himself than anything, then headed up the stairs with him quickly and quietly, earning a reassuring nuzzle from Rock for his efforts.

The house was still and silent, and they made ascent of the staircase blissfully undisturbed. That was just as well, Forte definitely wasn't sure he was ready for that line of questioning yet; he planned to put that off for as long as he could possibly manage. Something told him that Rock wouldn't give him a hard time about that either. He seemed to be working twice as hard as Forte at keeping silent, giving him a disapproving look when his foot came down on a step with a slight creek.

He carried Rock to his room and stared at the bed quietly, and his stomach turned a little as he almost lost his nerve. Rock's bed was unmade, the blankets on it a rumpled mess. He stared at them with silent, momentary revulsion, It wasn't Rock's blankets his mind saw, it was the nest of blankets he'd once been content sleeping on at the fortress, in another lifetime. It was oppression, cruelty, and pain he was thinking of. Intimate pain. The kind he wanted to bury deep inside him and never have to think about it again. The kind that-

A hand rested over his, gripping it firmly, and he was brought rather sharply back to reality, to a normal, unmade bed. Rock clasped Forte's larger hand in two of his own, kissing it deftly and comfortingly. His eyes were filled with concern, adoration... love. His eyes were so intense it was almost painful to look into them. "Forte..."

One look into that gentle gaze, and Forte's reluctance dissolved. "It's okay." Forte murmured, turning back to Rock and kissing his forehead tenderly. "I'm alright…" He reassured the Light bot with, paused, then followed it up with "I'm ready." Rock hadn't asked, but he hadn't needed to. Forte knew he'd been thinking it.

Rock nodded with a small jerk, losing a little of his grace in the process. Worry still glinted in his eyes, but he didn't question him further. He couldn't have, even if he'd wanted to. Forte took that slight, rough nod as a moment of opportunity and tilted Rock's chin, pulling his face up to Forte's and kissing him in one smooth, fluid movement. He pulled Rock tight to him, taking in Rock's small sigh and pressing their bodies together again with a fresh burst of sensation.

The smaller boy didn't resist, and he allowed Forte to guide him down to the mattress trustingly. The taller boy settled over Rock carefully, knees resting on either side of his slender hips, and clenching his legs tight around him, almost pinning him. Rock leaned up slightly, welcoming the closeness and urging him on further with kisses. He did his best to distract the Wily bot from whatever fleeting, unpleasant thoughts he might have, not wanting them to interrupt any further activities between them. He sensed how important it was that this night go perfectly.

Forte had no intention of anything interrupting them, however, and he secretly marvelled at how confident and sure of himself Rock seemed right now. Apparently not even a situation like this could sway his personality. It seemed Rock was going to follow through with his decided best course of action, and he wasn't going to let small something small like a lack of experience stop or even hold him up. It was impressive, to say the least.

Watching Rock arch up to press teasingly against his tortured groin , Forte decided even that might not really be true.. He found himself questioning just how pure the Light bot really was. It would certainly explain why he'd never seen either of the Light boys actively seeking a partner. He couldn't help a small snort at the thought of Tom living completely oblivious to his creations living an incestuous lifestyle under his nose.

Rock interrupted his thoughts suddenly. "What are you thinking about?" He asked curiously, looking slightly bewildered. Forte realized that Rock probably thought he was laughing at him, which really wasn't all that far from the truth. Even now he wore a badly masked grin. Sadly, it was too late to cover it now; definitely not one of his smoothest moments.

Before he could muster up a piss-poor excuse, Rock spoke up again. "You're making a strange face, is it uncomfortable?" He shifted up, then down a little beneath Forte, trying to accommodate his weight and height difference, and Forte gave a small moan at the firm, rubbing sensation it made. "Forte...?" The Wily bot's face was a deep shade of red currently.

"Y-you don't want to know." He muttered lamely, pulling Rock up to kiss him again, doing his best to silence the older robot. He gave Rock a weak grin, which the boy returned in full, and went back to kissing him. Slowly, sensually, he guided a hand up the smaller boy's shirt, pinching and teasing a pink, tender nipple. His other hand found its way under Rock's pyjama bottoms, and the boy gave a small quiver, like a taut string.

Rock tried to lean up again, to give the younger boy another firm kiss, and Forte let him. He clung onto Forte like a leech, hands working busily to shed him of his clothes while the taller boy worked hard to do the same. His hand went down slowly, over curve and concave, finally reaching its destination as Forte released a harsh , feral attempt at a sigh. He shoved Rock back against the bed again, bearing him down on him with his weight.

The first thing Forte realized when the biting chill finally shook him out of the half sleep he'd fallen into was that the stars were almost completely gone. He sat up a little straighter, almost sure that it had all been part of some crazy dream now souring into a nightmare, then he realized why they were gone. It was almost daybreak already.

After their nap, they had come out together to the roof and had made love again, equally arduous as their first time together. They rest after, Forte with his arms wrapped loosely around Rock, holding him in his lap as he slept and waiting for the sun to rise. At some point he must have drifted off again, joining the older robot in sleep.

He groaned lightly, hoping that Tom hadn't decided to wake up early this morning, and that Blues had decided to finally mind his own damned business and steer clear of Rock's room – and the roof. He sat up straighter,trying to shake Rock awake gently, amused – the boy had fallen into an outright sleep, and when he was limp he was heavy.


	17. Part 1: The Project

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART ONE: RECONFIGURATION**_

_A/N: This chapter is shorter than I'd like, but I didn't have enough time to edit it as much as I'd like. I'm really cutting it down to the wire (have to leave for surgery in 3 hrs LOL). Hope everyone likes it, please drop a review and let me know! :) When I recover from stuff I will be starting up the second part of this fic, this is officially the end of Part 1!_

_Whatever you vividly imagine, ardently desire, sincerely believe, and enthusiastically act upon... must inevitably come to pass!_

_ ~Paul J. Meyer_

_**Chapter Seventeen – The Project**_

Thomas Light leaned back slowly, sipping his forth cup of coffee idly and surveying his work quietly. He still had a few tests to run before he could actually activate the still form on his table, but he already knew they would pass. As far as the actual work was concerned, he was done. Regardless of how things panned out, he was finished.

Sipping his coffee idly, he mulled over things in the early morning silence. He still wasn't sure that he had done the right thing, but it was too late to take it back now. He had done what he'd set out to do, somehow he had known it would come to this as soon as the idea had come to him. In the end, he had never been able to help himself when it came to his creations. His only hope was that all parties involved would be happy with the outcome, not that that ever happened.

Reaching out, he placed a hand on the figure lightly, inspecting it and petting it gently. More than anything, he hoped that the person he had operated on would forgive him. There were going to be a lot of major changes in the Light household, he only hoped the new robot was ready for them. Still, there wasn't much he could do about that either way, really. What done was done, and he just hoped that in the end, everyone would be happy, or forgive him if they weren't.

He got up slowly, stretching carefully with a small wince. His joints ached, and he was exhausted, but he still had a few things to do before he could go to sleep. He reached over, grabbed his car keys, and sighed. "Hang in there little guy, I'll be back in a few hours." Once he had was finished shopping for clothing and other supplies, he would sleep for the better part of the morning, then wake up and get his family prepared for the change.

He stared down at the quiet form a moment longer, hand stalled over the light switch, and then he left, leaving the dim light on. He had a feeling that once the robot was activated, he would likely want it on for a few days.

"Jeez, Forte, are you going to share that popcorn?" Rock asked with a small grin. They went through this every time they went to the movies together. They'd finally found a compromise to Rock's love of the theatre, and it was the perfect atmosphere for quiet make-out sessions, one of which they'd just concluded several minutes ago. Rock leaped forward suddenly, grabbing a large handful of popcorn, spilling fluffy, butter soaked kernels onto the ground as they walked back to the lab.

Forte grunted at the loss of the sweet, buttery kernels, and raised the bag out of Rock's reach teasingly, licking his fingers clean. "Hell no, you like sharing with the ground." He grumbled, sounding annoyed, but couldn't hide the slight grin on his face at the utterly offended look on Rock's round face. "You're cut off."

Rock started to reach up in an attempt to grab at the popcorn, then lowered his arm quickly, blushing. There were a few faint marks on his collarbone and neck he would prefer stay hidden. "Thief. I don't want you popcorn anyway." he huffed, smiling a little and hugging onto his arm.

Forte lowered the popcorn again, continuing down the road in a lover's embrace - If that was what one must call them. He actually hadn't thought much about his relationship with Rock, or where the new level they had taken things to brought them. Maybe lover was too strong a word anyway, but things had definitely taken a major change again; he now shared a lot more than blankets and pillows with Rock.

It had been three weeks since they had ended up in Rock's bed together, naked and entangled under the covers. That first night had merely been the beginning of things, not that he was complaining. Still, their relationship was something the hadn't discussed yet, though he knew the conversation was coming sooner or later.

It wasn't that he was avoiding it, he knew putting things off never solved anything, but he understood that their 'romantic interludes' for a lack of better terminology, were still in their baby stages. That meant they were still far from frolicking through fields singing Neil Diamond songs as they held hands, and frankly he hoped they never would - it just wasn't his style.

He let out a small snort as he bit back a laugh, and when Rock glanced at him curiously, he couldn't resist, mumbling the chorus of Sweet Caroline. He couldn't batten down the laugh that reached his vocal processors, and Rock frowned at him huffily, looking outright offended.

"Who's Caroline?" He asked heatedly, face surprisingly dark with jealousy, and then Forte gave up fighting it altogether, doubling over and surrendering as he laughed until his stomach hurt. Rock took advantage of this moment to snatch away the popcorn, and he stalked ahead a little, a blush high on his cheeks. "Oh… I don't even want to know, you pervert!"

He gave the younger robot a sour look as Forte followed after him quickly, but let him catch up, leaning against him lightly and reaching around, grabbing the taller boy's hand and setting it on his chest lightly, clutching it to himself. They walked like that in a complete but comfortable silence.

Forte smiled a little at that, feeling the mild charge Rock seemed to give off when they were like this, and found himself submitting to his whims again. "Why don't we cut a shortcut through the park?" He asked mildly, though they both knew what his intentions really were; not that Rock appeared to mind.

He nodded slightly, and Forte led him to the park, cutting a slow, arcing path to the slide, their make out spot of choice (and that was all, Rock wouldn't let him go further in public). He sat down, leaning back against the cool, aluminium material, and moaned faintly as Rock settled over him, content to just kiss him and feel the smaller robot's warmth against him.

He let his hands wander a little as he dominated the smaller boy's mouth, over the material and above the waist, as were Rock's rules, prudish though they were. He didn't mind, he could feel Rock's piercing excitement from the position he lay in, and as it pressed tighter against his, he couldn't help a small shiver of pleasure. Sometimes he suspected that Rock was just a tease, and liked reminding him of what he wanted, couldn't have, and was almost promised later if he could just be a good boy for a little longer.

Rock's lips left his own, settling on his neck, and he let in a sharp intake of breath, dropping his head back with a groan and staring at the sky stupidly, before it dawned on him how dark it was getting. "Shit! Rock…ah~ damnit, don't do that, I'll have to walk in with my coat around my waist." He fought his own urge to just lie back and enjoy the nibbling along his tender neck and instead pushed the older robot back with a reluctant sigh, causing a noise of disappointment from Rock.

"We're taking too long… Tom said he has something to show us." he insisted gently. It wasn't that he was worried about staying out too late, the old man didn't keep them on a leash, but he wasn't sure if he wanted the old scientist to know just how close he had gotten with his youngest son.

Dr. Light would be expecting them to be curious and hurry home. And if that wasn't enough to convince him to end things early, he knew damned well that Rock was a horrible liar who couldn't keep quiet about anything he was excited over. He didn't want any awkward questions, or their more awkward answers.

Rock sighed, blushing faintly, and kissed his cheek, running his lips up a stripe deftly. "Okay… We'd better be going." He got up begrudgingly, grabbing Forte's hand again and tugging him to his feet. Forte pulled him close and he walked with him, letting Rock's head find its usual point of comfort on the taller boy's chest. "What do you think it is?" He asked curiously, blush growing deeper as Forte's arm draped around his waist, resting against his hip lightly.

Forte glanced at him, shrugging slightly. "No clue. Maybe he's adopting me." He added with a snort, kissing the top of Rock's head gently. "Wouldn't that make things awkward." he chuckled, with a teasing gin.

Rock's face somehow managed to turn an even deeper shade of red, and he kissed Forte's hand lightly. "I think he already did that a long time ago. I think we kinda threw a wrench in the works with this, though." he mumbled thoughtfully.

Forte wondered vaguely if he was serious, then his thoughts fleetingly returned to Gospel; then shook that off quickly. No need to get wistful now, Gospel was dead. It hurt, but he could be sure of that much. It had been so long since he'd received any word about him, it was hard not to lose hope.

The old man had stopped mentioning his support unit's name a long time ago, and after spending that last night sleeping next to the wolf's bundled form, Forte had known somewhere inside that it was time to let his faithful companion go. It had taken awhile, but he found he could almost forgive himself for the wolf's fate and live his life. It was best not to think about it though, it still hurt.

Rock giggled a little at the comment, unaware of the Wily bot's darker, fleeting thoughts. "Do you really think it would make things that strange? It never did for-" He stopped himself, shutting his mouth quickly, but Forte had caught that and pointed an accusing finger at him.

"Ha! I knew it! I knew you were fucking your brother!" He cried, trying his best to look offended, but he found all he could do was grin, amused. The look on Rock's mortified face was too priceless, and he found all he could feel was amusement at his crude comment.

Rock actually sputtered for words, before finally busting out, exasperated. "Q-Quiet, Forte!" He exclaimed in a voice so high pitched it was practically a squeak. "Someone's going to hear y-" He yelped loudly in surprise as the front door to the house opened of its own accord and a boy sprang out, jumping Forte hard enough to knock him down on his back and breaking up the conversation before either of them had time to even process what was happening.

Rock stared in wide-eyed surprise as the boy, looking remarkably like Forte, sat on the violet haired boy's stomach, as free of clothing as a newborn child, and with as much concern for his state of undress as one too. He felt colour rising to his cheeks, not sure if he should be offended or trying to help a very stunned Forte get the boy off him. He was naked… and licking his entire face.

Forte stared up into eyes as golden as his own, the silver haired boy with purple streaks in his hair grinning at him stupidly, as if he wasn't sure what a smile should look like, and yelled in surprise. "Wh-what the hell are you doing? Who..." The shocked expression melted off his face slowly, replaced with a different kind of surprise, and an understanding of the situation at hand. "N-No way…"

The boy's grin widened in realization, seeing that Forte realized who he was staring at now, and he positively squirmed with excitement. And how could he not know? There was no mistaking that look, regardless of the face it was currently occupying.

"… Gospel?"


	18. Part 2: Reunion

A/N – Update:August 31/2011 : I'm moving part 2 onto the same story as part 1, I think it may have just been confusing people. To those of you who've read this already, sorry for the deja-vu. ^^; I should have chapter 3 of part 2 up at some point this week if things ever calm down at work (hire 3 new people and two others quit, the work is endless. :p) In any case, it shouldn't be too much longer, I'm just in the process of editing it. :) See you then.

Hey again guys! This is really, really late, but unfortunately, I ran into some post surgery complications, as well as a bad fall that lead to an infection. x_X But I survived and I have a chapter! Hoorah! This isn't the longest, or most exciting chapter, but I didn't wan tot leave you guys too long without posting something, so I'm throwing what I have up now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART TWO: SAVE OR CANCEL CHANGES?**_

_Every parting gives a foretaste of death, every reunion a hint of the resurrection. _

_ -Arthur Schopenhauer _

_**Chapter One **__**– Reunion**_

Forte stared at the silver and violet-haired boy standing before him, completely stupefied. The colour was different, but the style was close to his own, and that face... the markings on his cheeks were different, but past that it was like staring in a mirror. If they went in to town, they could pass for twins, easily. "It... it's really you, isn't it?" His throat was tight, and the words came out rather forced; he felt lightheaded. He wasn't sure if he was going to cry or faint. He could easily do both right now, though he suspected he would do neither, despite the strong surge of emotions. At least, not right away, he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of Rock. "Gospel, down."

Gospel perked up at the sudden command, and his face lit up as he scrambled off Forte quickly, stumbling over him a little, and sitting so close to him he may as well have still been atop him. Forte reached out, patting his bare back lightly, and Gospel wriggled in delight, leaning down and giving his cheek a gentle lick, ignoring the look Forte gave him. Finally satisfied that Forte knew how happy he was to see him, he rolled onto his side and rested next to his awestruck master, pressing his nose against his thigh in its usual place.

Forte widened his grin a little. "Yes... it's definitely you, Gos." He crooned over the boy a little, running a hand down his side and petting him under his chin a little. This got Gospel excited all over again, and it took another minute or two of repeating the same process to get him calmed down a little. "Good boy... good boy..." He lifted Gospel up a little into a slight sitting position, and gave him a hug and a pat, then let him settle again. "He did it, Rock... he really did it... it has to be Gospel."

Rock nodded slowly, staring down at the very naked boy in front of him and trying hard not to be too freaked out by the situation. "I don't understand." he mumbled, just as shocked as Forte, but apparently for different reasons. Forte didn't look too shocked about Gospel being a humanoid robot, as far as Rock could tell he was just shocked that his support unit was alive and well after everything he had been put through. It was understandable, but still... This was definitely not what he had expected at all.

He knew his father had been trying to repair Gospel, but this was a humanoid robot, he certainly didn't look like a support unit as far as he could tell. This was completely different from what Gospel was, he wasn't sure why Forte didn't seem to see that. That was a naked boy clinging to his boyfriend, not a wolf. He slid down slowly next to Forte, mind reeling with questions. Did his father put Gospel in that body as he was, or had he altered and upgraded his mind to match the body? What did Gospel think about all this? He set a hand on Forte's shoulder lightly, and leaned in to kiss his cheek gently, completely unprepared for what happened next.

Gospel made a grunting, snarling noise as the offending Light bot leaned in toward Forte's unguarded face. He lunged forward at Rock suddenly, jaws wide, aiming for the face. Rock saw it coming from the corner of his eye and lurched back suddenly to avoid the attack, saving himself a lot of discomfort. Still, it wasn't a total miss for the Wily bot, Gospel felt Rock's flesh on his mouth and he sunk his teeth in, latching on and biting hard on Rock's shoulder. He clamped down, pinning him and shaking his head a little to get a better grip.

Rock let out a pained and startled cry as Gospel's teeth pierced the skin and began to sink into him, feeling a warm, wet mix of saliva and blood on his shoulder. He cringed, cursing at the tugging motion the shaking was creating, but despite all the pandemonium and the white, stabbing pain, was grateful that while the new Gospel had enlarged canines, his teeth as a whole were a hell of a lot duller than they were as a wolf. "Gyaah!" It took everything he had not to fight back or try to pull away, not wanting a deeper or second wound.

Forte stared blankly at the pair in front of him for a few seconds before springing into action. "Gospel, don't!" he exclaimed in both anger and shock as he wrapped his arm under Gospel's throat, jerking him back roughly and shoving him down on his back. He made certain the choke hold was tight, pinning him and frowning deeply at his support unit, letting him know his discontent.

Rock clamped a hand on his shoulder with a wince, then gasped at the taller boy's actions. He was about to beg Forte not to hurt gospel, he knew how much he meant to his boyfriend, and he felt awful for ruining their reunion. Then he realized what the taller boy was really doing and he rolled his eyes, sighing in exasperation. Dominance training, he was treating him like a poorly trained puppy. He wondered vaguely whether or not Gospel still thought he was a wolf, then decided he didn't care either way, as it seemed to be working.

"Bad Gospel!" Forte declared loudly, lightening up the hold after a couple of seconds. "If I didn't want him this close, he wouldn't be." he sighed loudly as Gospel squirmed a little in his hold, licking his hand faithfully and giving him sorrowful looks. Forte rolled his eyes and pet the downed boy gently. "Alright, I'll let you up, but be good. Got it?" he released his hold on him and left him lying on the ground on his side.

He turned to Rock in one fluid movement, and pulled his shirt collar to the side, seeing two red spots of blood seeping through the material. Rock winced a little at the action, but he ignored it in favour of making sure the injury wasn't serious. He wiped the blood away with the shirt to see the extent of the damage more clearly. There were four holes from Gospel's cuspids, and several dimples of blood from his other teeth, but otherwise he seemed fine, and they weren't too deep. He sighed in relief, that saved an awkward conversation later.

"Rock, are you alright?" He asked just to be certain, and Rock nodded a little, looking more embarrassed than anything. It was understandable; here they were, the two strongest robots in the world, and neither of them were able to stop a newly activated robot who was still adjusting to his new body from biting him. Not just any robot, a support unit. He got up carefully, offering Rock his hand. "Come on, we'll get you cleaned up and figure out what's going on, okay?." he offered.

Rock grabbed Forte's hand a little tentatively, not wanting to be attacked by an angry gospel again, but the silver haired boy simply got up and stood by Forte passively. Rock was relieved that Forte had managed to train him so well, it was definitely paying off now. He was fairly certain that hating him was almost hard coded in their systems, and he was taking Rock's presence quite well. "Thanks..." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I spooked him like that." he apologized. In retrospect, it should have been very obvious that Gospel would react violently in the situation. "I shouldn't have come so close to you like that until after you'd explained everything to him. I wasn't thinking."

Forte furrowed a brow at that, looking amused. "Explained? I just have to give him an order not to touch you, he's my support unit, remember?" He groaned a little in embarrassment. Gospel was his responsibility and he should have kept better control on his support unit. Even if he had only found out about him a few moments beforehand, he knew Gospel well enough to have anticipated that. "I'm the one who was careless." He wrapped an arm around Rock's waist gently as a peace offering, heading inside.

Gospel followed him into the Light residence, at his heels. He kept glancing at Rock a little nervously, but he didn't say or do anything to him, instead shifting closer to his main unit. Forte held the door ajar for him, and he stepped in ahead of him, inspecting the foyer suspiciously then sitting on the floor next to Forte while the violet haired boy took his shoes off, holding Rock's arm tenderly.

Rock smiled at Forte a little, letting him keep the grip on his arm. It was sweet that he was so determined to take care of him. "I didn't think you were careless." He blushed a little and let Forte lead him down the hall to the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub and letting Forte dress his shoulder. There wasn't much work to be done there, Forte simply rinsed his shoulder off and covered it with a bandaid. Within a day or two the injury would be completely gone anyway, his auto repair would make short work of such small puncture wounds.

He was a little bothered by Forte's comment about ordering Gospel around, but decided to wait and bring it up later. He didn't want to get in the way of Forte's reunion with the new, improved robot. Plus, he wanted to find out what was going on, too. Forte finished up with Rock's shoulder, rubbing his arm gently. "I'm glad one of us feels that way. Come on, let's find out what the hell's going on around here."

Rock smiled warmly at him, leaning forward as if to hug him, then stopped and thought better of it. Gospel was waiting in the doorway of the washroom, but he still didn't want to test fate. He got to his feet, Forte at his heels, and headed down the hall with him, looking for someone to give them a few answers.

Forte couldn't help but feel a little worried at the lack of sound or movement in the house. Rock's family was nice, and they treated him very well, but they were noisier than hell. There was always some kind of noise, even Blues, not the most social of creatures often had music playing, or the television on in the background. At the very least, Roll should have made her presence known by now, she was almost always home. Not to mention it was ten minutes past dinnertime, and she was about the most punctual person he'd ever met in his life.

He glanced over at Rock and saw that he wasn't the only one who was unsettled. The shorter boy was looking around quickly, biting his lip. "Roll? Are you here?" He frowned a little, listening for her voice. He didn't get a response, instead hearing a distant, thudding noise. He held his arm up, signalling Forte to stay where he was, then headed for the kitchen. "Roll, where are -"

The door to the basement flew open suddenly, hitting Rock square in the face. Rock made a loud, unhappy sound, and fell onto his back, hands clamped over his face firmly, writhing a little. Roll emerged suddenly, looking incensed, and glanced around the door, eyes narrowing. "You!" she yelled with an accusatory scowl. Apparently the thudding had been her coming up the steps from the laundry room.

At first Forte thought she was speaking to him,and nearly took half a step back. Roll was a kind, sweet girl, but she had one hell of a temper sometimes. And if that wasn't bad enough, he just couldn't bring himself to hit such a cute, innocent looking girl, especially now that he wasn't taking orders from Dr. Wily. "R-Roll... um-"

"Get over here right now, Gospel!" she bellowed, completely disregarding Forte's existence in the narrow hallway. He hadn't seen her so angry looking since before he'd moved into the Light residence. He glanced over at Gospel, expecting to find an equal level of terror in his support unit's eyes, but Gospel simply stared at her, expressionless. Roll continued, stomping closer to the silver haired boy and Forte tensed a little, prepared to come to his support unit's rescue if things got nasty.

"I mean it, you can't run around with your... your..." There was colour high on her cheeks and she was burning a hole into gospel's eyes with her stare. Forte saw what she had in her arms and suddenly everything came together. Under one arm she was toting a shirt, boxers, and pants, in the other she held a pair of sandals. She stopped suddenly, smiling at Forte, finally registering his existence. "Oh! Hi, Forte!" she exclaimed. "I see you've already found Gospel. Isn't it wonderful? Dr. Light fixed him after all. Excuse me a moment." She returned to giving Gospel the third degree, merciless.

Forte sighed a little. With the way she was going, she was going to end up getting bitten. Gospel didn't take well to Rock when he was being nice to him, there was no way he was going to take her crap, especially when she was acting so aggressively toward him. He opened his mouth to tell her that, when Gospel leaped forward suddenly and flopped down on his back in front of her, grinning a stupid, vacant animal smile. If he had a tail, Forte was sure it would be wagging voraciously. He groaned loudly at Gospel, he'd forgotten how much he liked girls.

Roll, however, looked less than flattered by his antics. Not that he could blame her. Gospel's offending appendage was now hanging out in the open. She looked just about ready to blow a gasket. "You... pervert!" She practically squealed, and hit him in the face with the clothing, dropping over his groin to cover the nudity. "you put that on right away!"

Gospel stared at the clothing blankly with an utterly confused expression on his face, and Forte stepped in before Roll whipped out a broom or something else to beat him with. "Uh... I'll get it." He cleared his throat and began wrestling Gospel into the boxers, ignoring the squirming and fighting. Gospel growled frustratedly, he seemed determined to run as free and naked as the day he was activated. He glanced back up at the blonde. "Roll... how did this... I mean... what..."

Roll shrugged a little at that. "I'm not really sure, Dr. Light said he was going to talk to you about it once he got back. I'm very sorry, but he's not home right now. He's picking up something to eat because _somebody_ ate tonight's food while I was setting up dinner." She gave gospel a rather sour look. "Didn't even wait until it was cooked, you animal." she sighed, speaking up to Forte again, seeing the look of disappointment on his face. "Don't worry, I'm sure he'll tell you everything once he gets back. By the way, have you seen Rock?"

Forte nodded a little, tugging Gospel's boxers up quickly while he was distracted with Roll's chiding, and gave him a little pat on the head. He chuckled a little, despite himself, realizing he had abandoned Rock on the ground in all the chaos. He still wasn't any good at that type of thing, it seemed. "Yeah, you hit him with the door."

He pointed to Rock, who was still lying on the floor behind the door. He looked alright enough, staring up at the scene playing out with interest. He didn't seem to be in any pain, it looked like he was just watching the day's entertainment from his unusual vantage point. Roll went over to him quickly, and he turned back to Gospel, sighing.

"Gos, stop pissing her off so much. You haven't even been back for a day yet." He started fighting Gospel to get a shirt on him while Roll gushed over her 'fallen' brother, babbling. He was glad for the distraction that Rock was providing. He wanted to spend time with Gospel, and girls, it seemed, talked a _lot_.


	19. Part 2: Old Soul, New Face

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART TWO: SAVE OR CANCEL CHANGES?**_

"_The soul is placed in the body like a rough diamond, and must be polished, or the luster of it will never appear"_

_ -Daniel Defoe_

A/N: Here is chapter 2 of part 2. The first chapter didn't really get much of a response (thank you to those of you who did for your kind words. :) ), I'm not sure if it's because I posted the second part separate from the first or if it's because the first chapter was boring lol. Sadly, this chapter's not much more exciting, it will be a few chapters before things really start to pick up, be forewarned.

I know this is posted terribly late, but I unknowingly walked into a disaster at work when I went back. Apparently while I was off we lost almost a third of the escalation staff, and I've been working long, busy hours and have been exhausted when i get home from work, sometimes as late as 3am. ^^; We're supposed to be getting two new people in about a week, but will be roughing things in the meantime, and it may be a little while before I'm able to post weekly chapters. I'll try not to let it go a full two weeks again, hopefully I can stick to that.

Anyway, enjoy the chapter, it's a little longer than the first one, and please review, I appreciate any and all comments, they really do make an impact for me. :)

_**Chapter Two – Old Soul, New Face**_

The dark sky was vast, illuminated by the moon and a bright spattering of stars. It was a nice, clear night, even if it was a little damp and cool out. Forte stared up at the ghostly halo surrounding the moon , a small smile on his face. He hardly noticed the beautiful scenery, his mind was far away as he sat, lost in thought. He pulled his jacket around himself tighter, doing the same for Gospel, who was still asleep in his lap and not bothered by the slow drop in temperature. His companion shifted a little with a small stretch, then curled back up in the fetal position, looking like a small child. His breath fell in slow, even breaths, accompanied by the occasional sigh.

Gospel nosed closer to Forte occasionally, burrowing his face deeper into the crook of his main unit's arm contently. He ran a hand down Gospel's back idly, petting him like he had with his old body, hoping to warm him up a little. He didn't know how Gospel could handle the cold so nonchalantly; despite having a coat on, he was still clad only in boxers, shirt and pants long since discarded. The only reason he'd actually managed to get a coat on him was his flat out refusal to let Gospel out the door without it, knowing it was his favourite place to be.

He shifted slightly, balancing his weight carefully, and Gospel emitted a faint, low growl, sounding strange coming from a humanoid robot. Sighing lightly, he tilted his head back again, eyes returning to the night sky. Despite the human body Gospel now had, he was still every bit as much an animal as he had been in his old body.

He supposed he shouldn't really be surprised. Tom had done wonders – he'd rebuilt Gospel from the ground up, had transferred whatever he could salvage from the support unit's memory and personality chips, and had given him the basic comprehension his own robots had. Still, there was a lot missing, due to damage to the chips and incompatibilities.

When Dr. Light had returned home, he'd first helped the boys wrestle Gospel into rest of his clothes – torn and abandoned by halfway through dinner – then he filled them in over their long awaited meal. Gospel had lost several memory files, including the final days of his previous life. The fact that he had no recollection of the horrible, disgusting things he had done to Forte, or of torturing and killing Gospel was both a good and bad thing. Forte promised Tom that he would fill Gospel in on everything sooner or later in private at the old man's request. He secretly hoped the old man would forget about that eventually, he didn't want to think about that ever again, let alone tell Gospel about it.

Dr. Light was worried about loyalty issues down the line, not wanting his support unit to fall back into Wily's hands. Forte had absolutely no intention of telling Gospel _anything_, he was loyal to Forte first and foremost, and he didn't plan to ever let him out of his sight again. If Tom decided to tell Gospel on his own somewhere down the line, that was up to him, but he didn't think he could bear to tell his support unit that he had been weak.

For now, he had enough issues to deal with. The shock an emotional stress of having Gospel suddenly back from the dead was just the start. There were also the complications from the upgrades and damaged chips. There were old basic functions of his that no longer seemed to be functioning properly, leaving him confused and his senses a little dulled, he was clumsy and awkward in his new body, having a hard time adjusting to it, and worst of all, it seemed to Forte that Gospel just didn't want to be a humanoid robot.

He blatantly refused to wear clothes, to start, boxers seemed about the limit of his tolerance, and even then, he would would whine piteously the first hour they were on and "lose" them as soon as Forte let his guard down – much to Roll's discontent. It made sense, he supposed, when he was a wolf, he'd never allowed Forte to collar him, which was fine by him.

Personally, he couldn't care less if Gospel spent the rest of his life in the nude, he was happy just to have him back, and had spent almost his entire life surrounded by a lot of male robots, he hardly batted an eye at Gospel's nudity. The Lights, however, were just a little more conservative, and definitely did not share his feelings on that. Roll had nearly had a panic attack after seeing his genitals earlier, and he wasn't in the mood to repeat the process, his ears were still ringing. So clothes it had been, and clothes he still fought against.

Then there was the issue of his behaviour. He didn't crawl around all all fours, thankfully, instead toddling around awkwardly with a miserable look on his face. He planned to fix that tomorrow with some lengthy walking practice for his poor support unit, but he was sure that a good portion of that was mental, not physical. Gospel had no desire to be in the body he currently resided in, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out.

Still, it was hard to teach him much of anything, because of the biggest problem they'd run into. Tom had told him that Gospel could now think fully, instead of simply taking commands and more importantly, he could articulate himself, but since his activation, Gospel had given no hint of the ability, hadn't said a single damned word to anyone. Even when Forte commanded (then begged) him to say something, he refused to speak, despite the installation of a voice box and a dictionary-based grasp of language that Tom had installed in him.

The old man had promised to take a look at Gospel tomorrow, to make sure the software was properly installed – he'd already checked his vocal processors for physical problems, but Forte knew Gospel well enough to have a certain sense of the problem. He was almost certain that the silver haired boy's refusal to speak was a stubborn, intentional act - he simply didn't want to. The truth was that nothing Forte could do or say would make Gospel speak before he felt like it.

It was admittedly a little frustrating, but he was okay with waiting for Gospel to be ready in the meantime, he had a lot to reflect on. He was overjoyed with the return of his support unit, naturally, but there were some questions that he felt needed answering, and Dr. Light had listened to all his concerns and answered them to the best of his ability. Even after several hours of asking him questions, sometimes repeatedly if he didn't understand the answer, Tom never showed even the slightest hint of annoyance toward him. It was a good thing too, because it put his mind to ease.

For one thing, Forte had wanted to know just how much of Gospel was still _Gospel._ Tom had assured him that he was still the wolf that Forte had always loved, only now he had more depth to his character, was more there. He told Forte that with time, patience, and a little tender love and care, within weeks Gospel would seem more like a brother than a support unit, that they could get more out of their relationship than he'd ever thought possible.

Forte wasn't sure how he felt about that, wasn't sure if a deeper relationship was what he really wanted. The thought was a little intimidating, but to say something like that would be terrible, not to mention ungrateful. Still...He was so absorbed in thought that he didn't even notice Rock come up to him, not hearing his feet on the grass or sensing his presence.

Rock watched Forte as he stared at the night sky, running his fingers through Gospel's hair idly, and smiled softly. It was sweet, the way Gospel still curled up in his lap like a dog, wanting to be stroked and scratched, fussed over like a pet. The clothing thing was a little strange, but he was pretty sure that the silver haired boy would adjust to that soon enough, allowing them to dress him up like a cute little doll. He wondered momentarily if hearing something like that might hurt Gospel's feelings, then decided that despite what his father had said, Gospel really was just a support unit still, and he hadn't been a humanoid long enough to understand how derogatory that thought was.

Still, he couldn't help but feel that way, Gospel hadn't shown any signs that he was anything but that, and seemed content to continue being treated like some kind of a pet. In fact, Rock found it easier to think of him as Forte's pet. Maybe one day he would even grow to actually like Rock, instead of just tolerating him, and they could share him like Rush. He took the last few steps toward Forte, his movement catching the taller boy's attention, and smiled at him sweetly.

Forte stared up at Rock, smiling a little and patting next to him lightly. He was used to being in the Light boy's company 24/7, and it felt awkward and uncomfortable not being around him. He missed him, after Gospel had nearly attacked Rock earlier, they had been hesitant to sit too close, let alone touch or hold hands. Now Gospel seemed down for the count, sleeping peacefully in the cool and soothing night breeze. Rock sat down next to him and he reached out, grabbing the shorter boy's hand lightly. "There you are... It's been a long night, hasn't it?" he asked contently.

Rock nodded a little, giving his hand a gentle squeeze and smiled at him softly. "That's for sure... " he whispered, giving him a gentle look. He closed his eyes, letting the wind lift his hair, cooling his skin pleasantly.

"I was shocked." Forte muttered quietly, gazing into Rock's eyes as they opened again. He didn't know how else to say it.

"I was shocked too." Rock murmured, lifting Forte's hand and kissing it tentatively, giving Gospel a nervous glance. The sliver haired boy didn't flinch or give any indication he noticed or cared, deeply asleep. Forte gave his hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and he relaxed, leaning in and kissing him softly on the lips. "So... What are we going to do with Gospel?" he asked curiously.

Forte drew his lips back a little, a hurt expression on his face at Rock's comment. "What do you mean? We're keeping him, that's not up for discussion." He frowned slightly, feeling uncomfortable. He feared the worst, Rock didn't like Gospel, and now he was going to try and make him give his lifelong companion up. No... Rock was the last person to give up on anyone. Their relationship alone was testimony to that. That was just the voice of panic. Rock smiled at him, and he felt himself relax, relieved. "I mean..."

Rock leaned in again, resting his forehead against Forte's lightly. "Of course we're keeping him, Forte. I love you, and I could never ask you to do that. I just don't want to have to spend the rest of my life having to keep a meter stick between us. " As if to emphasize his point, Gospel suddenly shifted slightly, brow furrowing with a small growl. He sighed softly, backing off a little, the message had been rather clear.

"I guess I should have expected that he would hate me. I mean, as far as he knows, we're enemies. It's like what Dad said, he doesn't remember the last couple of days before he was destroyed, he doesn't know that Wily's really the dangerous one, not us." He sighed, disappointed. "Maybe you could talk to him again, or... or maybe we could take him to obedience school or something." He was willing to try just about anything to make the situation work.

Forte grinned a little at first, until he realized that Rock was dead serious; then he just laughed. Once he'd regained control of himself, he cleared his throat. "Really? Obedience school? I don't think they'd willingly enrol a naked robot." He smirked, then groaned a little, seeing the crestfallen look on Rock's face.

"Forte!" Rock sighed, exasperated. "I wish you would take this more seriously! It's really important to me." Rock leaned in to kiss his cheek and he covered the violet haired boy's face with his hand, pushing him back a little playfully.

"Alright, I'll talk to him again, but maybe you need to spend a little time together. You can get to know him, and he can get to know you. I'm sure all this will pass like nothing happened." He pressed his lips on Rock's forehead lightly, comforting him. "Don't worry, this is a good idea. Come on, let's head inside and go to bed, it's late and I don't want Gospel up and around without us, naked and harassing your sister."

Rock smiled, getting up with him. "You're right, I've been over thinking this. I mean, he's only been activated for a few hours, it took you weeks to adjust." He kissed him tenderly. "Oh, and Forte?" He paused, smiling at him. "I... I'm really happy for you."He really was, it was about time something started to go right for the Wily bot. "I'll meet you upstairs." he called over his shoulder as he left, heading back to the house to hold the door open for him so he could slip into the house without waking Gospel.

Forte smiled gently, stroking Gospel's hair back, then slid out from under him and lifted him up carefully, leaving him asleep. Happy. He was really happy. Everything seemed to be going right, and he would have Gospel's behaviour under control in no time. So why was he left with such a terrible sense of foreboding? He steered his mind from that line of thought, heading toward Rock who was waiting ever patiently for him.

Quick hopped out of the tree he was hiding in, stretching. It was about damned time the traitor had left, he had little patience to begin with and he'd been stuck in his hiding place for _hours_. If they were telling the truth and that really _was_ Gospel, they must have dumbed down his senses a lot when they put him in his new body for him to not notice two robot masters so close to him. Forte should have noticed too, but obviously his carefree days at the Light residence had left him lazy and stupid. All the better for them, he supposed. "Heh. I didn't think we'd get that much information so easily. What a couple of geniuses."

There was a slight rustle as Shadow, his partner in this mission stepped out of his better concealed hiding place. "Dr. Wily will be pleased to hear this." he murmured. "We haven't had any new information since Snake and Search managed to find Forte." Shadow was the only robot master Quick knew of that still referred to the old man by his proper name when he wasn't within earshot. "We had better go report this, he'll want to know right away. It's doubtful we'll find anything new until tomorrow." He turned and started off, the Light residence receding behind him.

Quick sneered, falling in behind him. "Of course. I never knew Forte was such an idiot." He pulled his hoodie down over his head more and pulled the strings tighter. They were wearing simple, human clothing to conceal their identity, not that Shadow really needed it. He had an almost uncanny ability to blend in almost anywhere. Still, they were direct orders from the old man himself.

Shadow said nothing, simply walking on, but somewhere knee-deep in his subconscious he wondered if Forte had the right idea and they were the ones who were fools. He stopped suddenly, narrowing his eyes. Off in the far distance, heading toward the Light residence, he'd seen movement. He held his arm up to halt Quick. "Someone's coming." he muttered. "There." Someone was walking down the driveway, still too far off to see any real details.

"Let's get out of here. I'm getting cold anyway." Quick grumbled, and they teleported away hurriedly before they were seen and their cover was blown.

Blues looked up, seeing a flash of light in the distance, and sighed. Heat lightening...? The sky was cloudless. It left him with a sense of unease. He was suddenly glad he hadn't decided to stay away any longer and had followed his gut instinct back to the house. Besides, something felt different, and he wanted to see what had changed.


	20. Part 2: Adaptation

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART TWO: SAVE OR CANCEL CHANGES?**_

A/N: And things got more busy instead of less LOL. I've gotten some new tasks to do at work, which have been keeping me busy, my poor kitty is still having seizures, and I've been watching my niece a lot lately. Hell, I've been so busy I haven't made it to the doctor still about some post surgical complications I'm having _ I really hope everything settles down soon, but all things considered, I guess I'm not that far behind XD;;;

On a random note, I finally made a facebook acct for my fandom stuff. My name is Gimperz Sixtimesthree and it's listed as my homepage under my profile. I've been using it to put up little fic snippets and news on my stuff if I'm going to be horribly late on something, etc. Feel free to add me.

And thank you everyone who's reviewed, I really appreciate it! Believe me, the few reviews I get keep me going sometimes, when I'm getting frustrated and want to just say forget it. :) Enjoy, things should be picking up in the next chapter or two.

"_Nothing endures but change."_

_ -Heraclitus_

_**Chapter Three – Adaptation**_

Blues found out just what was so different just shortly after 9 the following morning; as he trudged downstairs for a cup of coffee and was nearly bowled over by a robot he had never seen before. He'd always had a tendency to roam, and Dr. Light had a habit of forgetting to tell the others about his projects from time to time - he had long since chalked it up to the old man's age - but they were generally projects that he spent a few days on. This was a functional humanoid robot, not some random equipment he'd made to make the dishwasher run faster.

It wasn't likely he'd forgotten, and the old man wasn't the type to stay hush-hush about something this big if he didn't have a good reason. It was possible that it was one of Dr. Cossack's, but that was unlikely, he hadn't built a humanoid either in quite a long time, and he'd just been there to visit the other scientist and his daughter, Kalinka again only a few months ago. He stared quietly at the strange robot headed right for him.

Gospel showed no signs of the malice he'd directed toward Rock after seeing him the night before. He didn't recognize Blues out of his armor, so he felt only curiosity. The eldest Light boy was still staring at him, so he marched right up to the new robot awkwardly, leaning in fearlessly and sticking his face right up next to his. He gave him an exploratory sniff, then scooted closer and licked him idly across his face.

Most people would have reacted to the invasion of personal space with a small cry of disgust, perhaps even pushing him away from them. Blues had travelled all over the world and had seen some pretty strange things in his time, it took more than a little invasion of privacy and a bit of saliva to phase him, instead he simply raised his brow at him. "Hello, and you are...?" he asked curiously, continuing his trip to the coffee pot. On second thought, maybe he was just too tired to deal with that level of strangeness before his first cup of coffee.

The robot didn't say anything to him, though he had moved a little. He was still standing in his personal space, staring at him silently with his head cocked slightly to the side. "Well, it's obvious that you're not shy around strangers. Are you the strong, silent type, or did Dr. Light forget to connect your vocal processors?" Still no response, the robot didn't even nod or shake his head in acknowledgement, and he didn't seem to be sizing him up, he just looked... well, confused.

He was starting to wonder if there was some kind of a mistake and the robot wasn't supposed to be activated yet. Dr. Light was gone, he'd noticed his car missing as he'd wandered down the hallway on his way downstairs; he severely doubted he would intentionally activate a sentient robot just before leaving. "That's fine, I'm not big on conversation anyway. You're probably hungry, I'll get you some cereal or something."

He headed over to the coffee maker, yawning widely and pouring coffee for himself and a cup for his 'guest'. He wasn't sure what the new robot would like in his coffee, and added several scoops of sugar and a lot of milk – black coffee was an acquired taste that he doubted a fresh robot would like. After delivering it to the table, he grabbed a couple of bowls and poured out cereal and milk. The robot was following him with his eyes, so he grabbed his hand lightly, leading him to the table and having him sit down, digging in.

The silver haired robot stared at the food quietly for a moment, then he knocked the spoon out of the bowl and stuffed his face in it, eating noisily and gracelessly. He stared at the robot silently, running over the situation in his mind. Now that he thought about it... the robot looked a hell of a lot like Forte, and had absolutely atrocious manners, much worse than most robots had immediately after activation; and Dr. Light had been so secretive lately...

He chuckled lightly, suddenly realizing what was going on, and who was sitting across the table from him. Now that he knew, he didn't know how he hadn't come to that conclusion right off the bat, it should have been obvious from the start. "Welcome to the family, Gospel." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table while Roll wasn't there to scold him, and ate his cereal in silence, letting Gospel eat as he liked.

Gospel either gave a small grunt of acknowledgement, or choked a little on his cereal, then continued to wolf down his breakfast as quickly as possible, eyes never lifting. He had the intense focus toward his food that wolves had, he wouldn't be surprised if he could chase down game once he got used to his new body and and kill it with his own hands. He'd probably mangle it and eat it on the spot like a wolf too, he mused. Not that it really mattered, they were robots, they couldn't get sick from that, though that had to taste disgusting.

Blues was just getting ready to refill the silver haired boy's cereal bowl when he heard rushed feet thundering down the steps. He glanced up as Forte burst into the kitchen, looking alarmed then sighing deeply in relief when he spotted Gospel at the table, then raised a brow at the Wily bot. It was about time, now he could finally get some answers.

Forte completely ignored him for the time being, fixated on his support unit. "There you are! Don't do that to me..." he groaned, sliding into the chair next to Gospel's and grabbing the coffee Blues had made for him. "Don't drink that, I'll get you water in a minute. That's not good for... you." he cleared his throat and stroked Gospel's head lovingly, crooning over him a little and trying to get him to use the abandoned spoon, which lay discarded on the table. Gospel flipped it out of the bowl twice more before Forte finally got the hint.

Blues rolled his eyes, pouring more cereal into Gospel's bowl and snorting. "Aww... Leave him be, Mother Hen. I'm sure Gospel here's had one hell of a week as it is. You can teach him manners another day, though if he's learning them from you or Rock, there won't be much improvement." Forte scowled deeply at him, finally noting his presence in the room, and he winked back at the taller boy to let him know he wasn't serious. Forte did lay off the poor kid at that point though. Gospel stared at him quietly, he assumed he was relieved.

Forte dropped back into his chair with a sigh, still trying to wake up, and sipped Gospel's coffee, grimacing at all the milk and sugar in it. "Hey... How did you know it was Gospel anyway?" he asked curiously. Dr. Light's car was gone, meaning he'd left already. Blues still looked mostly asleep, so it was doubtful he'd been up long, and when Tom went out somewhere, it was usually early in the morning. "Did Gospel tell you?" he asked, looking more hopeful than he'd intended. "He's started to talk?"

He shook his head slightly. "Nope. He didn't have to. It wasn't that hard to figure out, I'm not an idiot. Right, Gospel? You look a _lot_ like Forte, you poor thing." He grinned, reaching over the table and ruffling his hair a little. Gospel stared at him, face lighting up slightly, obviously proud of that fact. "I guess we can be friends now, since I fed you and gave you your first cup of coffee." Forte made a displeased noise and he turned his attention back to Forte with a slight grin. "How long has he been activated? Um... and why the hell can't he talk?" He didn't really see much point in having a mute humanoid robot.

Forte frowned at him, annoyed. "Shut up, Blues! He's find the way he is! He's only been active since yesterday, he doesn't need to talk." He glared at the Light bot from across the table. Gospel growled audibly when Forte said Blues' name, curling his upper lip into a snarl at the realization of who his company really was.

Blues grinned at Gospel, unphased by the sudden snarling, and reached over the table quickly, stuffing a chocolate chip muffin in his mouth firmly. It was effective, the growling stopped almost instantly, leaving Gospel with a confused albeit mollified look on his face. "Ah! None of that - we're friends now, remember?" He reminded him with a friendly pat on the head, petting him. He intentionally ignored Forte for the time being, letting him stew in his own juices for a few minutes.

Forte grimaced a little, expecting a similar reaction to the day before and not really sure he wanted to stop Gospel from taking a chunk out of Blues after being poked at and taunted like that so early in the morning. To his surprise, Gospel simply stuffed the muffin in his mouth instead of attacking, eating it wrapper and all, then settled back down contently. He sighed, wishing he could get him to accept Rock that easily, but there was a lot of bad blood there, and he knew it was going to take time... hell, _he'd_ needed time.

Blues gave Forte a slightly smug grin at the silver haired boy's reaction to him, amused. "I guess he is fine the way he is, but aren't you curious about the stories he has to tell about you? I'll bet they're entertaining." Forte stared at him quietly, scowling deeply, then looked over at Gospel, clearly alarmed. The thought must not have crossed his mind yet that Gospel could do that now. The upset look on his face did a lot to spoil his fun.

He got up, done torturing the taller boy for the time being, amused. "Don't worry, I'm sure it won't be an issue." He could have comforted him further, but he'd heard him and Rock a few times – their rooms were side by side – and that really helped to ease some of the guilt. It wasn't like Rock was completely pure and innocent, but he was still his little brother and like hell he was going to accept that without a little retaliation. He didn't mind Forte though.

He stopped at Gospel as he headed out of the kitchen. "Bye, Gospel. Come see me if you ever feel like chatting, okay? I'm always up for a good story." He gave him a small pat on the head lightly, amused at how content he seemed with everything, no real doubts or worries; still a dog, that was for sure. It was a nice change to see someone so carefree. "I'll give you another treat, alright?" Gospel stared at him amiably and he left.

Forte sighed, annoyed. "He's such a jerk sometimes. Never mind him, Gos." He went back to his attempts at teaching Gospel minimal table manners, so he at least wouldn't eat like a barbarian. It was slow going and there was a lot of give and take; Gospel would have absolutely nothing to do with silverware no matter how much Forte ordered, demanded, and then begged, but he did at least start taking the paper off of the muffins and started eating with a little less gusto.

Rock came downstairs shortly after Forte had begun trying to get Gospel to sip his drinks the proper way, peeking into the kitchen shyly and smiling. "Morning, Forte. M-morning Gospel." Forte waved to him with a tired smile, and Gospel tilted his head back, staring up at him expressionlessly. It made him uncomfortable, the way the new boy stared at him. He looked like a person, but that blank expression on his face was like staring at a dog.

He felt like a pane of glass in front of the silver haired boy, every private thought, every secret he had felt exposed when he was around. There was something in the way he stared at him, it was unnerving, though his stare was the least of his worries after what happened last night. His arm still throbbed from Gospel's assault on it, it was turning some ugly shades, too. He really hoped the silver haired boy didn't bite him again, it really put a damper on things with Forte when he couldn't come within five feet of him.

More than anything, he was just glad Gospel didn't have his old jaws or teeth, or there would be nothing left to his shoulder. Still, even with his flat, dulled teeth, his jaw was still strong, and he'd clenched down on his shoulder hard enough to be able to break through his skin. He rubbed the bruise on his shoulder idly while his back was to Forte, fixing himself breakfast and something to drink. The wound had that lingering, annoying ache you only got from a good bruise.

He ignored it pointedly, determined to do his best to be a supportive boyfriend to Forte - admittedly he found it a little hard to do at times like this. He still remained determined, he just had to keep reminding himself that this change had to be hard on Gospel, too. He hadn't asked anyone to do this to him, it was probably harder on him than anybody. He looked over at Gospel, who was eating a muffin slowly and awkwardly, staring intently at Forte for approval with almost every bite.

He sat next to Forte, staring into a bowl of cereal tiredly, glancing over at him and seeing the concern in his eyes. "Don't worry, we'll get dad to look at him again today, okay?" He smiled at him, already knowing that this was about Gospel's determined silence. Rock wasn't as concerned as Gospel, he was sure there was something they could do to get him to talk, and still believed that he just didn't want to. Either way, he wouldn't worry about it until he had to, he had to keep Forte calm and rational about it.

They ate breakfast in a comfortable, relaxed silence, enjoying the food. Rock glanced up at one point, giving Forte a small smile, and was relieved to find it returned. Things hadn't gone wrong yet, and they weren't going to. Gospel helped him to almost the entire basket of muffins on the table, finally full, then slinked away to wander the house in peace.

After breakfast, the real fun started. Gospel was about as open to the idea of changing clothes as he was to putting them on in the first place. He helped Forte switch Gospel's boxers, and attempted a pair of shorts and a tank top with him. Getting them off wasn't the problem, he was more than happy to lose them, it was trying to get a fresh pair on him that became a fight.

It took a hell of a lot of coaxing and the promise of more muffins to get the boxers and shorts on, but when it came time for the shirt, Gospel became almost hysterical, not liking the collar coming down over his head, and they had to abandon it altogether for the time being. Forte was fairly certain his was its similarity to a dog collar and leash, so he didn't push too hard for the time being. Once dressed, Forte grabbed his brush and ran it through his hair. Gospel was surprisingly calm for this part, after the failed attempt to put a shirt on him. He settled in Forte's lap quietly and lie still the whole time.

Finally it was done, and they headed back downstairs just in time to catch Dr. Light after his return home. Rock stayed behind, letting Forte handle it. He knew how concerned the Wily bot was about his support unit, and felt a little like he was intruding. He really doubted that Gospel wanted him there with him.

Forte found Dr. Light in a slightly cluttered office adjourning his lab, bringing Gospel with him. "Um... Tom?" He knocked on the door frame lightly, hoping he wasn't interrupting something important. Gospel hovered close to him, watching Dr. Light with mild interest. "Could you take a look at Gospel again? He still won't talk, and he barely responds to anything. Something's... wrong with him.." he muttered cautiously, not sure how else to describe it.

Dr. Light glanced at Gospel, looking worried. "I can definitely take a look at him. Has he been like that right since he was activated or has it gotten worse?" He waved them in, grabbing an extra seat and rolling it over next to the one facing his desk, so Forte and Gospel could sit next to each other.

Forte took a seat, pulling Gospel into the chair next to him. "He's been the same since day one." he sighed, worried. He gave Gospel a comforting smile, and the silver haired boy leaned in closer to him, nosing him lightly. "Sorry, I'm not really sure what's going on." he muttered apologetically.

Light smiled at him gently. "It's perfectly understandable, you've been through a lot the last few days." He leaned over Gospel, hooking him up to a small device, then began running diagnostics on the boy. Forte stood over him quietly, worried, and tried to give him space to work in while still in arm's reach of his companion.

Gospel seemed indifferent to Light's actions, having long since eliminated the old man as a threat. He let Dr. Light analyze his data, distracted with poking around at various things on the old man's desk quietly, shifting closer to Forte whenever the violet haired boy shuffled his feet or moved in any way.

Forte pet him idly, watching with piqued interest as Gospel's code ran across the screen of Tom's computer monitor. The old man's head moved slightly as he read over the information quietly, the suspense was almost enough to kill him. "Well...?" He asked finally, sounding almost timid, worried by the old man's silence.

Light looked up at him, smiling a little. "Everything checks out fine, his tests all came back normal." He unhooked Gospel carefully, opening a candy dish on his desk and giving a piece to Gospel, praising him for staying still for so long with all the connections on him. "Gospel, why don't you go see if Roll still has coffee on? There's another treat in it for you if you do." He smiled at the boy who smiled back awkwardly, mimicking his facial expression, and left for the kitchen with a reluctant glance back at Forte.

He waited until Gospel had disappeared down the hall, then sat back down in his office chair, gesturing to the other chair in the room, Forte had gotten up with Gospel and was standing next to his seat awkwardly still. He smiled at the Wily bot warmly, he could tell he was nervous. "Why don't you have a seat, Forte? I wanted to talk to you about Gospel anyway. It's nothing bad" he added quickly.

Forte nodded a little, sitting across from him, trying to relax a little. When he finally settled into a comfortable position, he spoke up. "There's nothing physically wrong with him, is there?" He asked tentatively, hoping Tom hadn't gotten him alone so he could deliver him some terrible news.

The doctor shook his head a little. "You're right, Forte, that's why I wanted to talk to you alone." He leaned forward on his desk a little, patting his hand lightly. "Physically, there's nothing wrong with him, but I need you and Rock to remember that he's received quite a shock. He was reactivated in a new body, his programming has been altered, and he has no recollection of why he was offline in the first place, let alone why it was for so long."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I think he may be a little afraid to speak in front of you, too. You've been his world since hew as activated, and now that he's on par with you, he might feel intimidated. Try to be supportive of him speaking, but not too forceful about it, we don't want him to withdraw further.

Forte nodded slowly, that definitely made sense. He had always been Gospel's master, the wolf had been built with the sole purpose of serving him; now they were nearly equal in several ways, even in appearance. He hadn't really thought much about it, although hearing that now admittedly made him a little uncomfortable. Things kept changing, and it left him feeling vulnerable and a little off guard. "Y-yeah, I guess that makes sense. I'll try not to push him."

Light smiled encouragingly at him. "Good, I think that he might respond a little better with that, you'll be shocked at how fast he'll adapt to the changes with a little positive reinforcement." Forte nodded a little at that, sighing, and started to get up. He stopped him quickly, before he went anywhere. "There was one more thing, before you go. I've heard you and Rock talking about Gospel, please try to keep in mind that he's not a basic wolf unit anymore. Not only is he capable of thinking like you two, but he's also capable of feeling like you do. You might not realize it, but you may be hurting his feelings. Treat him with care, alright?"

Forte nodded slowly and left, mulling over all the new information. What Tom said made sense, but he couldn't help but treat Gospel the same way. That was how things had always been, and he was fairly confident that Gospel wanted him to treat him the same as before. After all, it was all he'd ever known, why would he want to change that? Still, he would still try his best to follow the old man's directions, even if he didn't agree with them.

He passed Gospel in the hall while he was en route to the kitchen, the silver haired boy was carrying a mug of coffee awkwardly, trying to hold it steady and spilling more coffee than he was saving. He stopped and flashed Forte an awkward smile, the same one he had given Light only moments before. He smiled back a little at the expression he was making. He was learning... adjusting.

Gospel glanced down at the coffee dripping over the side, onto the floor, then brought the cup up to his mouth, lapping up the coffee and looking displeased at the taste. Forte bit his lip to keep from laughing. Well, it was a start. Perhaps he wasn't adapting as fast as they'd thought. Gospel started down the hall again, looking so pleased with himself that he didn't have the heart to tell Tom the coffee had been sampled.


	21. Part 2: The Park

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART TWO: SAVE OR CANCEL CHANGES?**_

A/N: Almost through the busy time. .-. I've been in line for a promotion, and we've been short at work, but that should end soon, for better or worse. Either I get it or I don't, should no by next week, and then things will go back to BAU (We're hiring 5 more supervisors, so it won't be as crazy. 3)

In other news, I got a scanner and shall be putting stuff up between my facebook acct and deviant art acct at some point. It also means I'm more likely to play around in photoshop. o_o;;

I also was unable to find a rockman fangroup on facebook, which actually shocked me a little XD;;; I made one, feel free to join on board if you'd like! :)

.com/#!/groups/rockmanyaoi/

I've got a few ideas in the works for other fics too, now it's just a matter of finding time to get it all done XD;;; Once I find myself a routine I should be good!

"_Even if you stumble you're still moving forward."_

_ ~Anonymous_

_**Chapter Four – The Park**_

Rock was last to get up for a change, he hadn't slept very well on the far side of the bed. He had grown very accustomed to sleeping in Forte's arms, and had worked on him until the violet haired boy finally accepted the inevitable – no matter what he said or thought, Rock was going to latch onto him like a backpack and snuggle with him all night. He would never tell Forte, but he was mildly irritated that Forte had still slept fine without him, and more moderately annoyed that Gospel had wormed his way closer and closer to his boyfriend until he was draped over him limply with his head tucked under Forte's chin. Gospel had opened an eye a little at one point to give Rock a rather smug look, too.

He made a small, annoyed noise at the memory, and sighed deeply, trying to relax. He was not jealous of his boyfriend's dog, that was just ridiculous. Gospel was just used to sleeping like that, that was all. Forte had told him once that he hadn't really had a bed at the fortress, they had probably slept like that to stay warm. Still, he had to take a few deep, calming breaths before the flush would leave his cheeks. Maybe he was a little jealous. He knew he should be embarrassed at getting so bent out of shape over something so trivial, but it was hard seeing Forte close with someone else.

For months, Forte had been relying on Rock alone for support and comfort. It was hard... Still, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Gospel hadn't done anything wrong, on the contrary, he had been wronged worse than anyone involved. He sank down on the bed again, rubbing his forehead a little. It was shameful, getting angry at someone who was clearly the victim in all of this. He had to think of Gospel's feelings, and what was best for him too. If he felt more comfortable sleeping in bed with them, that was fine. It wasn't going to be forever... He slipped his socks on, feeling better about the situation, and headed downstairs to catch some breakfast.

When Rock came downstairs, Forte filled him in on his morning, including what Dr. Light had told him. Rock listened patiently, nodding a little, relieved that Gospel's intentions were innocent. Now that he thought about it, he was a little embarrassed at getting so jealous, it wasn't like him. He decided he would help him adjust to his new life, and help get him out of his shell, it was what he did best. If he worked at it enough he could probably have him talking in just a few days.

He gave Forte a small, comforting smile, "Don't worry, Forte. He'll be like one of us in no time, you'll see." He noticed Forte grimace slightly and cringed inwardly. "I mean... that's what you want, right?"

Forte gave him a small, forced smile. "Of course it is, he's back and that's all that matters, right? I'm happy, we can get closer than ever now." He wished he could believe what he was telling him, so far he just felt alienated and awkward around Gospel. He hated feeling so uncertain of everything, almost wishing he could go back to the way things were. But that would mean being back at the fortress... and all the growing he'd done – and Rock – would be lost. So no... he would have to make do with things the way they were, and find a way to make things better.

Rock was staring at him apprehensively, so he shook the thoughts away. Maybe if they got out of the house for awhile and out in the open, it would do them all some good. "Anyway, let's take Rush and Gospel to the park. We haven't been there in awhile anyway, and Gospel needs to get used to this body. His motor control needs serious work, he looks so awkward the way he is now. He _waddles._"

Rock couldn't help but giggle a little at that. As if the mental image wasn't bad enough, it was actually true, although Rock thought of it as more of a toddle, like a child still learning to walk correctly. "Okay, I'll get Rush's leash, and pack some snacks and drinks for us." He leaned up, kissing Forte's cheek, and tried to ignore the awkward stare Gospel was giving him from the other room. A trip to the park might provide a good distraction, too; they sure as hell needed it.

Gospel sat complacently on the grass by Rock and Forte, goggling quietly at random people passing by. Normally he loved the park; Forte had taken him from time to time, but today something seemed different. He wasn't injured, and there was no immediate threat, yet he still felt uneasy. He wasn't sure what it was. He couldn't help but feel that he had done something wrong, that Forte was angry with him, punishing him. But Forte never punished him before.

Things had started out well enough, he had been taken to the park with Forte by Rock and his support unit. It seemed that Forte was trying to keep him away from the Light robot, and himself by proxy. His main unit stayed at the Light robot's side, which was strange enough in of itself. Things were so confusing... where was Dr. Wily? And why was Rockman in their company? Still, if Forte wanted him there, he wasn't bold enough to go against his wishes. There must have been a reason.

Forte kept throwing the ball for him, trying to get him to pick it up with his misshapen paws, and keep it out of his mouth. He tried, wanting to learn the new trick to please his master, but he just couldn't hang on to the ball, it was terribly inefficient. They kept wanting to it too tightly, or too loose. Finally, in frustration, he grabbed it up in his mouth anyway, bringing it back to him and feeling a little smug despite himself.

That was when things started to go badly. Instead of a mild reprimand, or going on with the game like usual, Forte let out a frustrated sigh and stopped throwing the ball, sitting down and avoiding eye contact with the other people at the park, who were staring, clearly embarrassed, and even a little ashamed of him.

Gospel could tell he was uncomfortable and tried to curl up at his feet and protect him like he usually did, but Forte roughly made him sit up next to him, telling him to knock it off. They stayed like that for awhile until Forte finally pet him again, but the annoyed look never left his face.

He was deeply troubled, unsure of how to behave. Forte didn't like the way he normally behaved anymore, but when he tried to do new things – sit at the table like a person and drink the dark water like Blues encouraged him to, he also wasn't happy. And when he couldn't perform the way Forte expected, he reprimanded him, quick to anger.

Things were so different now, and not just the way he looked. There was something strange about himself now, almost alien. He felt differently about things, and instinct at times felt silly now. He wanted Forte to understand, but speaking... he could never. That was something that main units did, he was a support unit. And... he'd never had to speak to make Forte understand him before. He sighed, trying to curl up miserably in the jean shorts and the shirt they had made him wear – so scratchy and uncomfortable. He didn't like this, he didn't want-

"Gospel?" He lifted his head quickly, happy for the potential attention, but the excitement quickly faded. Forte was staring at him, frowning distantly. He was displeased with him again, he'd done something to make Forte unhappy. Forte's face shifted a little, coming out of its brooding state, then his look to one filled with concern as he left his deeply absorbed thoughts. "You alright boy?" He murmured, running his fingers through his hair carefully, petting him softly.

Something stirred in Gospel, deeper than he could understand – deeper than loyalty and devotion for his main unit, and he disregarded it as part of the changes he'd undergone. He shifted closer suddenly, wanting comfort and familiarity, wanting his old self back, but most of all wanting the old Forte back. "It's okay, why don't we play some more ball? I'm sorry, Gos." Forte sighed, then rose to his feet. Gospel followed suit quickly, scrambling up and hurrying after him.

Gospel followed him quietly, staring at him hopefully. It made him happy when Forte paid attention to him. Ball had always been their special time together. He normally loved it, but things were going so badly this time. He thought back to what happened, to the disappointed look in Forte's eyes when he had grabbed the ball in his mouth. He wondered if Forte wanted him to catch the ball in his mouth or not. He had never really thought about something so trivial before, always acting on impulse, following his instinct. He... he didn't want to. He didn't want to do this with Forte anymore.

He stopped, freezing a little, and stared at Forte. He didn't want to. This game... Why did he grab and chase the ball anyway? There as no real purpose... no point to any of it. It ha never seemed pointless before. Forte was giving him the signal, swaying the hand with the ball a little. He threw it suddenly, and Gospel stared at it, watching it approach while he thought hard about the ball.

It made a dull thud against his chest as it hit him, bouncing off and rolling across the ground. He reached down and picked it up, staring at it quietly as he made a startling revelation. He didn't want to catch the ball, and what was more, he didn't _have_ to catch the ball. He didn't have to mindlessly chase after it. He didn't have to do a lot of things if he didn't want to. He no longer felt the strong compulsion to just do whatever he was told.

He stared at the ball in his hand, rolling it idly between his fingers. The ball represented everything that he had been, and more importantly, everything that was changing. Maybe he really wasn't the same as before... The revelation was overwhelming.

He dropped the ball again, staring at it idly, then turned suddenly and began to walk away from it slowly. From here on, things were going to change. He finally understood that. He looked up and caught the look on Forte's face, and for a moment their thoughts seemed to synch again. He was different, and it terrified them both.

He was changing into something else, and Forte's eyes held nothing but grief and an overwhelming sense of fear in them for a moment. They had came to the Light residence in shattered pieces, both literally and figuratively, and had both changed, growing stronger, but not closer. Now that bond between them was slowly dissolving, tearing them apart. This wasn't what he wanted... tattered remains.

He grabbed the ball back up suddenly and ran awkwardly to Forte with it, thrusting it into his chest forcefully and holding it there, staring hard at it. His chest was uncomfortably tight, the stab of fear almost unbearable. Things were going so wrong.

Forte reached out, resting a hand on his head lightly, and he moved his hand, dropping the ball and leaning into him full force, resting his chin against his shoulder. Forte held him tightly in silence while Gospel clung.

Rock spotted them and walked over to them, looking concerned. "Is he okay?" he asked, confused. "Did he get hurt or something?" He hadn't seen anything happen to him, but he hadn't been watching too closely; Gospel was still new to his current form, and still pretty clumsy and awkward.

"He's fine, he's just tired!" Forte snapped at Rock harsher than intended, biting his lip. "He's had a very long day." he muttered quietly. He had seen the look on Gospel's face as he'd brought the ball to him, had never thought he would be capable of making that kind of expression. And it was all his, it wasn't something he had copied off of Tom, or Rock... He hadn't meant to, but he'd hurt his support unit, and bad.

Rock stared at him, a little surprised at the sudden agitation in Forte's voice, but let it be. He was clearly upset about something, and had the feeling that they would have a lot to talk about when they finally caught some time alone together. "It's getting late." he murmured softly, understanding that this was not fatigue for either party. He started gathering his things, whistling for Rush. "Come on, we should be getting home, Roll probably has dinner ready."


	22. Part 2: Priorities

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART TWO: SAVE OR CANCEL CHANGES?**_

A/N: ... Yeah, I know I kinda failsauced there. I have no excuses, been really busy, in line for promotion and trying to make the best of things. o.o;; 3 I also wanted to step back and work myself further ahead in the fic so I could iron out some grey areas and hazy plot points I'd decided on. Once I post a fic, I won't change it, so I like to make sure that I've got everything the way I want it before I post. Anyway, things will be ramping up soon, so won't be as boring in a couple of chapters (hopefully). Thank you everyone who reads, I appreciate it. 3 Reviews are loved and very much appreciated, don't see to get many of those these days.

Oh, also, I started a Rockman yaoi group on facebook awhile back. This thing likes to eat up URLs, so I won't bother putting in here, but I think it's on my profile somewhere. Enjoy!

"_Even if you stumble you're still moving forward."_

_ ~Anonymous_

_**Chapter Five – Priorities**_

Forte lay back in bed slowly, staring quietly at the ceiling. Dinner had been long and unbearable. He'd hardly eaten, he was too busy trying to get Gospel to behave at least minimally. The whole situation confused him. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. When he'd first gotten Gospel back he'd been so happy... when they had gone outside alone, he'd pet Gospel until he fell asleep – he'd even cried a little (though he wouldn't admit that unless under some serious duress).

Now things had become troublesome, Gospel was having some kind of an identity crisis, and he felt useless. He wasn't even sure what Gospel was anymore. He was trying to be open minded about all this, but it was difficult – at some point he'd stopped being and had become something else.

He sighed deeply in frustration, closing his eyes and trying to let his thoughts gather collectively into something comprehensive. He had a headache so intense it was almost impossible, and he opened his eyes again slowly, smiling a little. Rock was standing in the doorway, he must have slipped in while he was so preoccupied and was watching him. "Hey..."

"...hey." Rock replied, shutting the door lightly and stepping over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed. Forte started to sit up a little, but the shorter boy pushed him back lightly, lying down next to him and resting his cheek on the pillow gently with a small sigh. "Forte. About before..."

Forte sighed softly, smile slipping away a little. "You wouldn't understand, it... it's complicated." He ran his hand through his hair slowly, in frustration, resisting the urge to tug on it. He didn't even know where to begin. Why were things so complicated?

Rock smiled at him gently. "Maybe not, but I can at least try to, right?" He shifted closer to Forte, resting his chin on his shoulder and clasping Forte's hand in his own, pulling it closer and kissing his knuckles lightly. "Do you want to talk about it? I'm a good listener..." He lifted Forte's hand up and set it down on his cheek softly, nuzzling his hand slightly.

Forte sighed softly. He really didn't want to talk about it, that would also involve thinking about what had happened that day. He just wasn't ready to dredge that up yet, and relive those painful memories - however, the last time he hadn't talked about something so crucial it had nearly ended them. He mulled over it contemplatively, trying to choose the lesser of two evils and stroking Rock's face idly. It was so hard to say no to those baby blues. He leaned up a little.

Rock saw his internal struggle and decided to let it go for the time being. Forcing an answer out of him wasn't going to help anyone, and he knew firsthand how forte handled the pressure when it involved something emotional. He leaned in closer. "Or... we could turn the lights off, lock the door, and pretend to be in bed for the night..." He kissed Forte tenderly on the neck, giving him a small smile and climbing into his lap slowly

Forte grinned, finding that a much more favourable response, and shifted a little, kissing Rock on the lips. "Hold that thought." He got up, going over to the door. He whistled lightly for Gospel, who ambled in lazily and shut the door after him, locking it. "Go lie down." He ordered the silver haired boy gently, and Gospel settled hurriedly at the end of the bed.

Rock frowned a little at that, but held his tongue for the time being. Forte never made Rush leave the room, though admittedly, Rush slept in his own bed in the corner. He tried to focus on the moment instead, as Forte slid back into bed, settling half on him and letting his hands wander.

Forte's right hand slid down the shorter boy's abdomen, finding its way to the waistband of his pyjama bottoms and then beyond, fingers first gentle as they explored and cupped, then firmer as they gripped his stiffening self, eliciting a small moan. "F...Forte..." he whimpered softly, breath hitching as he accepted the eager kisses and gropes.

Forte broke the kiss finally, leaning down and releasing Rock's erection from his pyjama bottoms with one smooth tug, sliding them down to his thighs and settling between his legs.

Rock leaned back more, arching his hips ever so slightly as he prepared for the hot, wet feel of Forte's mouth on him, then gasped and sat up so quickly his head almost collided with Forte's, who had glanced up to see what was wrong. "Forte! He's watching us..." Rock hissed softly, grabbing the top sheet and covering himself up with it, heat rising to his face.

Forte rolled his eyes a little. "Who cares? He doesn't mind, it's not like he's never seen it before." He grinned a little lewdly at the older boy, indifferent. "He's just a support unit, he's waiting on standby in case something goes wrong." Rock continued to frown at him, and he sighed. "Gospel, get down so I can get laid."

Gospel stared at him quietly, but didn't budge. The bed was comfortable, and he always slept at Forte's feet and kept him warm. He sighed softly. Fine, if they were going to make such a big deal out of it, he'd warm stupid Rockman's feet too. He stretched out further, resting his chin on Rock's knee lightly and stared up at him distrustfully, letting out a small sigh.

Rock, at that point, went about as ballistic as Forte had ever seen him get over something not involving Wily. He scrambled back into his pyjamas and practically leapt out of bed in one single movement. "Out!" he yelled, face a solid shade of red. He was panting harder than he did after a good orgasm, and looked close to tears, clearly horrified by the contact.

Gospel rolled onto his back, not sure what he did wrong, then tried his best to please Forte, sensing his growing anxiety and agitation and not sure what to do about the normally calm Rock, who currently was almost frothing at the mouth.

Forte was staring at Rock, surprised. Things were turning pretty damned ugly at an alarming rate. "Rock, I... I'm sorry, I... are you serious?" He got up quietly to grab a change of clothes, glancing back at him, crestfallen. "can't we at least talk about this?" he asked. What the hell had just happened? He pulled out a sweater and jeans, staring at them dejectedly.

"Forte..." Rock sighed softly, grabbing the clothes out of his hands and dumping them onto the bedroom floor. "Not you... Gospel. I'm not breaking up with you, we've been through way too much to break up over something this small. It's just... I'm sorry, but if we're going to do this, he need to leave. It's... it's wrong. Knowing he's watching us when we... we..." He began to turn red again, unable to say it.

Forte sighed quietly. He didn't see what the big deal was, really. Gospel was still Gospel. But on the other hand, he didn't want to go without sex for the rest of his life. He groaned a little,but still couldn't help but feel smug at how completely flustered Rock got at even the mention of the sex they had. But that thought was for another time, it seemed.

Forte glanced up at Gospel, feeling a little guilty. "Why do I have to be the bad guy?" Why couldn't Rock be the disciplinarian? Then again, after seeing the way Gospel reacted around him, he already had an idea of how well that would go. "Fine, I'll put him out." He got up, sighing, and pat his leg. "Come on, Gos. You've gotta go, boy. You can sleep on the couch."

Gospel stared at Forte quietly, refusing to budge. He always slept with Forte, he didn't want to move. Rock should be the one leaving, why did he have to go? He was Forte's first. He flattened himself to the bed as much as possible, growling idly when Rock leaned toward him to help move the stubborn boy.

Rock blinked at that and backed off a little. He hadn't forgotten how much Gospel liked to bite, his arm practically ached just at the thought. "Forte..." Rocked frowned at his boyfriend disapprovingly, slightly annoyed that Gospel still acted that way.

Seeing Rock recoil just served to make Forte angrier, and he grabbed onto Gospel's arm, sliding him off the bed and onto his feet before they both ended up sleeping on the couch. "Come on, Gospel. It's just for tonight, okay?"

Gospel went reluctantly at this, not used to Forte using force like that. He allowed his main unit to eject him from the room, feeling a little guilty about growling at Rock. He hadn't meant to make Forte angry or embarrassed, he just wanted to stay with him. He may have been a support unit, but before everything that happened, he'd always slept near Forte, always been at his side.

Forte also felt terrible about doing this to the silver-haired boy. He had shared everything with the wolf, but things were different now, he had a boyfriend and his priorities had changed... He opened the door and ushered Gospel out gently. "Go sleep on the couch or something, boy. Okay?" He shut the door reluctantly, sighing and heading back to the bed.

Rock looked less than enthusiastic now at the prospect of sex, and Forte was feeling about the same at that point. He slid back into bed and kissed Rock's ear lightly. "Sorry about that... do you want to continue?" He traced his tongue down to Rock's neck idly, trying to get himself back into the mood. He earned a small shiver from the other boy, but that was about it. He sighed a little, that had been one hell of a mood killer.

Rock sighed softly. "I'm sorry, Forte... I .. I think I might have been a little out of line. This has to be so strange for you." He rolled over and wrapped his arms around Forte gently. "It's just strange... It's like he's a person now. I mean... does he even want that? Do _you_ want that?" He glanced up at Forte, nobody had really asked him what he wanted to do with Gospel, he had just been converted and reactivated.

Forte sighed a little, shifting in his arms a bit, then mumbled, muffled against the shorter boy's shoulder. "I... I don't know... It's so awkward now, with him looking and acting like this." He pulled the covers up, pretty sure they were done for the night, but keeping Rock close to him. "Before I came here, he was all I had... I don't know... I feel a lbit like a traitor, you know? He probably thinks I've flipped my lid."

Rock sighed a little, looking thoughtful. "Probably. Forte... I can talk to him about it, if it's too hard to bring up... that..." He was growing steadily more concerned about the fact that Forte wasn't giving Gospel any information as to what happened and why they were there. It made everything feel... temporary. Like he was planning on leaving, or expecting something terrible to happen.

Forte cringed internally, a little embarrassed at that. "N-no thanks, I think that would be even more awkward, and I doubt he'd trust a word that comes out of your mouth right now." He kissed Rock lightly, letting their lips linger together momentarily. "Thank you, though... for everything. I... I'll tell him everything, just.. not now, okay? Give me a little time..." He smiled at him sheepishly.

Rock nodded a little, smiling faintly, and reached over to turn the light off. "You can let him back in now, if you want. No sense keeping in him out, if we're not going to be.. um, busy..." he murmured softly, shifting a little until he found a comfortable spot and feeding off Forte's warmth, curling into him slightly.

Forte grinned a little, resting his chin on his head lightly. "Actually... I'm comfortable like this." he murmured. Things were going so well right now, he didn't want to ruin the calm atmosphere they had finally created after everything that had just happened. "Besides, we might need the privacy later..."

Rock hugged him a little tighter, whispering in his ear teasingly. "Speaking of which... when are you going to let me top you?" He asked. He'd never asked until now, but he'd secretly always wanted to try it.

Forte grunted a little, pulling the covers up more. "When you can reach the top shelf in your closet." he retorted sulkily, smirking a little.

Rock made a slightly offended noise, rolling his eyes, and gave up the fight for the time being, letting himself drift off to sleep slowly. He'd get Forte to agree to it eventually.


	23. Part 2: Comfort

**(A)BORT, (R)ETRY, (F)AIL?**

_**PART TWO: SAVE OR CANCEL CHANGES?**_

A/N: I really need to remember to throw chapters up here after I write them. Sorry guys! As always, things are crazy hectic for me! Hopefully next chapter will happen a lot sooner than this one did. I'm almost done writing it, so I'll attempt to catch up more with posting!

"_The closing of a door can bring blessed privacy and comfort - the opening, terror. Conversely, the closing of a door can be a sad and final thing - the opening a wonderfully joyous moment."_

_ ~Andy Rooney _

_**Chapter Five – Comfort**_

Gospel sat by the door quietly, resting his cheek against the wall and letting the smooth, cool texture soothe him. He was confused... So confused. Forte had rejected him. Thrown him out, locked the door. Worst yet, he'd seemed almost relieved when he did it. If his main unit wanted him gone, then why had he gone to all the trouble of having him reactivated? Why did Forte not want him now?

He wanted to be good for him – wanted desperately to please him. That was all he had ever wanted in life, really. He was created to serve Forte, and that was it. But now he wasn't wanted, and he didn't understand what he was doing wrong. The tightness had returned to his chest, and he squirmed a little, gripping onto it a little. This body... it had to have something to do with this new form he had. He felt the uncomfortable bite of shame, but was too unfamiliar with it to know it for what it was.

He looked up suddenly, hearing the slight grind and click of a doorknob as the door across the hall opened unexpectedly, casting a sliver of light into the hall only to be partially blocked by a shadow. Blues was standing in the doorway in a pair of boxers and a grey t-shirt, leaning out into the hall and staring down at him with a small sigh. "You get the boot?" He shook his head slightly and gestured for Gospel to make his way over to him.

Gospel couldn't help but cower a little, vulnerable and in front of the enemy without Forte anywhere in sight. At this point, he wasn't even sure if Forte would bother coming to his rescue. He looked around a little timidly, shifting up slowly, and Blues sighed a little. "They just don't get it, do they? Come on, you can stay with me tonight, you shouldn't sleep on the floor anymore."

Gospel walked over to him hesitantly, slow to trust the older boy given their less than friendly past, but Blues just walked back into his room, making up a spot for the newer robot. He followed him quietly, head down. This was the second time that the eldest Light bot had come to his aid since he had been reactivated, and he didn't know why.

Blues was the only one who acted like it didn't matter that he had been forced into a humanoid body. He even paid more attention to him than Forte had as of late. Forte just treated him like the embarrassment he had become. He was just a support unit, why had they done this to him?

He didn't like that thought, it made him uncomfortable. Suddenly his eyes began to water, and he fidgeted a little, trying to rub away whatever was irritating them. All this did was make it worse, and suddenly they began to leak. Alarmed, he made a small noise, rubbing harder and feeling the flood worsen. Now he was broken, too. Forte was going to be angry, and probably punish him again.

Blues glanced over at him and sighed, seeing the panic on the Wily bot's face. "It's okay... they're tears, Gospel." He grabbed an abandoned shirt off his dresser, and mopped his face gingerly, not wanting to upset the boy further. "Don't cry. He'll understand eventually." he soothed, tossing the shirt back onto the dresser and leading him to the bed, pulling the blankets back and patting the mattress. "Come on, it's late."

He pat his back lightly, throwing the covers over him and flopping down on the opposite side of the bed, flopping down. "You know, you should tell him how you feel. I know you can talk... You should at least try." Gospel shied away a little and he pat him lightly. "I won't make you, it's alright. I know you're scared... you can just tell him when you're ready. Or hell, tell me. I'm a pretty good listener."

Gospel nodded slowly with a little sniffle and curled up around his pillow quietly, resting his chin on it. Blues waited until his breathing slowed, letting him get settled, then reached up and turned the light out, settling under the covers with a small sigh. Gospel made a small noise, then shifted under the blankets completely, falling still.

Blues had been trying to leave things in Rock and Forte's hands, but it looked like he was going to have to step in at this point, while things with Gospel were still repairable. They might not have intended for it, but they were starting to seriously damage Gospel emotionally, and if it kept up, Gospel was probably going to end up resenting and maybe even hating Forte.

What they didn't understand was that Gospel didn't have the same protocols as before, and he didn't _have_ to be as loyal to Forte anymore as he'd been in the past. They were just lucky enough that Gospel hadn't figured that out himself yet. But still, it was only a matter of time before things clicked.

Slowly Gospel shifted closer to the warmth next to him, not liking the dark. He kept closing in until he was touching Blues faintly, patting him lightly with his fingers, as though confirming his presence. He seemed to relax once he had achieved this, and settled more, drifting off to sleep slowly, leaving a hand on him lightly..

Blues sighed, he wasn't one to have his personal space invaded like that, but Gospel was probably used to constant contact from Forte, and if it helped quiet the boy down and get him to rest, he would put up with it for the time being. "Night, Gospel." he mumbled quietly, closing his eyes and drifting off slowly.

Roll sighed sighed inwardly to herself as she narrowly avoided a run in with Gospel for what felt like the twentieth time that morning, attempting to set the table. She had just finished brewing the first pot of coffee for the day when Blues had ambled down the stairs, half awake, and dropped Forte's still mostly asleep support unit off in the kitchen. The boy had followed him around like a shadow, sticking close to him.

He'd allowed it, seemingly not noticing how irritatingly close the boy was to him, then finally sat Gospel down at the table with a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee, stealing a mug for himself and leaving him in her care with some excuse about needing to shower. That was the last she'd seen of him, so he was either stuck in line waiting to bathe, or he had ditched the new robot with her. Now she was stuck babysitting.

Gospel seemed to sense that she wasn't entirely too fond of him, and had been trying to get on her good side all morning, much to her discontent. While she appreciated him making the attempt to get on with her better, she was ready to pull her hair out and really didn't want to make things worse by snapping at him. The harder he tried to help, the bigger the mess he left for her to contend with.

At this rate breakfast would be burnt before she could even plate it. She was constantly stopping to mop up spills, or stop him from breaking something. Where were Rock and Forte anyway? They should be the ones entertaining him. She decided to give him something to do to keep him out of her hair, at least until one of the boys showed their faces.

She turned to Gospel, giving him a sweet smile and hoping this worked. "Gospel? Do you want to help?" she asked, trying to think of a task even he could manage before she lost her temper with the support unit.

Gospel seemed to perk up at this, scurrying back over to her from the fridge. He'd been standing there awkwardly for a few moments now, trying to remain stationary and out of her hair, sensing her waning patience. He nodded a little, glad she was speaking to him, and stood awaiting orders patiently..

Roll dropped a stack of plates in his arms, resting some silverware on top. "Set the table, okay? Just try not to drop or break anything." She turned, leaving him to it, and turned back to the stove, rescuing the food for the third time that morning. She turned the heat down with a small sigh, turning back to the new robot.

Gospel was standing in front of the table, plates in his arms, trying to make sense of the confusion directions he had been given. Set the table. Where did she want him to set the table? And if she wanted him to move the table, why had she given him all these things to carry? He wondered if this was some kind of a test. If it was, he wasn't doing very well.

The Light girl was going to get mad if he didn't do something soon, idling made Dr. Wily very angry. At least his instructions made sense. He acted finally, putting the dishes down on a chair, then grabbed the table, lifting it and trying to move it out of the kitchen, finding it nearly impossible to do with the doorway so narrow.

Roll rescued the dishes from certain doom quickly, sighing softly and watching him a little sadly, realizing for the first time how confused and uncomfortable he must be. She went over to him, grabbing the end of the table and bringing it back to its original location. "You really have no idea what you're doing don't you?" She asked quickly, grabbing the dishes.

Gospel gave her a very guilty look and she felt even worse. She grabbed his hand gently, pulling him over to the table, and set one of the places carefully. "This is called setting the table. Every person gets one of these settings, see?" She had him do one, coaxing him through it and smiling when he finally had it. "There, perfect! I knew you could do it."

This cheered him up immediately, and he set the other plates up with equal attention, doing well with the exception on a few chipped plates. That was nothing new, however. Living in a house full of boys – robot boys no less, that was a regular occurrence. She made him a plate quickly, before he resumed following her around like a lost soul, and things went a lot more smoothly after that. Where were he boys, though?


End file.
